;OPY, 

t6bJ. 




LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Chap, ipyrignt ^o. 



ShelfjtElSii-SGl 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



THE CROWN 

LOST AND RESTORED 



BURDETT HART, I). 1)., 

Author of "' Biblical Epochs. "' <; Studies of the Model Life.'" "Aspects of 
Heaven.'' -'Always Upward" 



BOSTON 

£be pilgrim fl>rees 

CHICAGO 
1899 



or congress! 

^S«lKOTO«rl 



*fr* 



1^0 









32405 



y 0' 



MAY 2 1899 



A 






two co°if » -*=c;iveo. 






/ 



do the <£burcb 

of ubiety fye tras oroaineo 

the pastor 

ftfty^ttyree years a 9° 

anb of robicl} by tr>t]ose courtesy be is ttotu 

the pastor (Emerttus 

tbjs Dolume is affectionately ittscribeb 

by tbe Ctutbor. 



CONTENTS 



' I. The Discrowning of Man 
II. The Christian's Coronation . 
III. Endlessness of Christ's Love . 
-* IV. Conditions of Belief 

V. Particularity of Christ's Messsage 
VI. Vicarious Suffering .... 
VII. For Memorial Day .... 
VIII. For Upbuilding of the Church 
IX. Power of the Church 
X. Our Forefathers .... 
XI. Ruth, An Example for Young Disciples 
XII. The Ornament of Woman . . 

XIII. Work of Woman .... 

XIV. Present Blessedness of Christians 
** XV. Untarnished Discipleship 

XVI. The Desire to See Jesus 

XVII. Light at Evening .... 

XVIII. This Ministry 



PAGE 

9 
25 
43 
63 
81 

99 
119 

133 

^7 S 
199 
213 
227 

243 
259 

2 75 
291 

30 5 



THE DISCROWNING OF MAN 



"The crown is fallen from our head: Woe unto us! 
for we have sinned. r — Lame?itations 5 :i6. 



Delivered in Central Presbyterian Church, 
Philadelphia. 



THE DISCROWNING OF MAN 



At first man possessed a limited regality. 
Dominion was given unto him. Nature, through- 
out its animate tribes, and partly within its inani- 
mate realm, recognized him as its lord. For him 
the seasons revolved, seed-time and harvest came 
in their appointed place, the sunshine and the 
shower bathed the world, and all things were " in 
excellent order, peace, and beautiful harmony." 
To him, as to a monarch, the earth, the air and 
the waters yielded their tribute, and his revenue 
was royal. With erect form, with noble front, 
with the port of a prince, he moved in his wide 
domain, with no one to dispute his title or to deny 
him homage. God had put the crown upon his 
head. Man was king ! 

Then the world was in tranquillity. That was 
the Golden Age, the fair and happy past, of which 
the poets sang, whose return is a burden of 
prophecy. Then the angels descended among 



IO THE DISCROWNING OF MAN 

men, and the Lord God walked with his peaceful 
children. 

How long this golden period lasted we can only 
conjecture. We know that the tempter invaded 
Eden and that sin robbed man of his glory and 
his joy. The . harmony of nature was broken. 
The peaceful concord was interrupted. Anarchy 
and confusion and evil prevailed in Paradise. The 
angels turned mournfully away and spread their 
wings in retreat, while emissaries of sin prowled 
in the bowers which they had frequented. God 
and man were no more in unison. There was ter- 
ror in the voice of the Father. The crown was 
fallen from man's head : woe was upon him, for 
he had sinned. My subject is, — 

The Discrowning of Man. 

I. We may consider it in respect to bodily 
excellences. As he came from the hand of his 
Maker the first man was perfect. All his physi- 
cal endowments were of prime order. He was 
erect, muscular, graceful, strong. Dignity and 
sweetness were combined in the expression of his 
face, over which rose the dome in which is the 
seat of the mind. He was capable of work, and 
found enjoyment in it. Every pulse beat with 
vigor ; every heart-throb was full and sturdy. Pie 
was made for life : made to live and to live on in 
enjoyment and with health. 



THE DISCROWNING OF MAX II 

Had he stood in his original uprightness he 
would have lived forever in perpetual youth and 
robust manliness. As it was, it took a long time 
to reduce the life of man to its present term : the 
first generations lived for nearly a thousand years, 
in wanton strength, braving the Almighty in their 
fierce incontinence, and wasting their powers in 
lavish lust. There were giants in the earth in 
those days, men of stalwart frame and impetuous 
passions, who filled the world with tumult and 
transgression, grim and gory Goliaths, great in 
crime, robust witnesses of the fearfulness of the 
fall. 

Sin interrupted the health and broke the vigor 
of the body. Pain, disease, languor, feebleness, 
thenceforward were its heritage. Wearing toil and 
trouble were to be the costly price of success. 
The curse came upon the body. 

What have we seen since? The eye that looked 
upon the forbidden fruit has been blinded ; the 
hand that plucked that fruit has been palsied ; the 
heart that lusted for it has been riven. The thorn 
and the thistle have pierced the wounded flesh ; 
the worn laborer has panted and fainted in exhaus- 
tion ; the tired invalid has tossed in miserable 
unrest; whole trains and tribes of diseases have 
invaded the human system, attacking it in all its 
functions and piercing it through and through 
with sharp pains ; sorrows have broken upon 



12 THE DISCROWNING OF MAN 

human hearts as the surges of the sea break upon 
its coasts; and death, in terrible throes, has hurled 
the soul and body asunder. 

Mankind has had a hard experience, even in the 
line of physical suffering. Every limb has been 
put to torture. Every sensitive nerve has been 
made a telegraphic line of pain. The weight of 
their woe has bent the frame so that men have 
gone bowed like bulrushes. Hospitals have 
been crowded with disfigured patients. One of 
the learned professions, employing the time and 
tact of trained practitioners, is devoted to the 
stud}' and relief of bodily ills. The head is 
sick ; the heart is diseased ; the whole man is 
covered with wounds. There are pangs at birth ; 
there are agonies in living ; there are throes 
in dying. 

And this is man who stood forth so royally at 
creation, in perfect organism, in noble dignity, in 
the glow and glory of wondrous life ! Surely the 
crown is fallen from his head. Woe unto him 
that he has sinned ! 

One would look far to find a nobler company of 
men than are the peers of England. In them is 
the blood of long lines of distinguished ancestry. 
There are forms and features expressive of cultured 
minds. There are men who tower above their fel- 
lows not more in physical endowments than in the 
graces and accomplishments of a true refinement. 



THE DISCROWNING OF MAX 1 3 

They are nobles. Yet they are not what all men 
would have been in bodily excellences it sin had 
been unknown. Every proud peer may have the 
experience of pain and writhe as a helpless 
sufferer. 

2. This discrowning respects the dominion over 
the world. Man was at first largely its master. 
God gave him authority to subdue the earth and 
invested him with dominion over every living 
thing that moved upon it. The wide creation was 
to minister to him and manifold life was to serve 
him. 

As the experiment did not go forward far, it is 
left to our imagination only to picture the progress 
and power of this race. Endowed with sovereignty, 
man would have controlled the elements and 
wrought out a civilization that would have been 
sublime. 

We wonder now at the works of early times. 
We tread with awe the silent streets of a buried 
Nineveh ; or sail over the sunken shafts and col- 
umns and massive blocks which once adorned and 
enriched commercial Tyre ; or gaze on the Titanic 
works of ancient Egypt, whose ruins are magnifi- 
cent ; or admire the later art of Athens and the 
glory of old Rome. We cease to wonder at the 
achievements of modern science. It has abridged 
distance and annihilated time ; it has given voice 
to the silent rocks ; it has measured the limitless 



14 THE DISCROWNING OF MAN 

heavens with a span ; it has launched upon the 
deep a ship capable of conveying a city within its 
hulk, which sways with graceful dignity to the 
everlasting pulsation of the sea and moves victori- 
ously to its port. 

Yet these, and such as these, are the works of 
the discrowned man. Now, nature treats him as 
a rival, often as an enemy. He is in conflict with 
the beasts of the field, which match their strength 
and skill with his. He is a rebel and all things 
are rebellious against him. He contends with 
reptiles and brutes for even a home in the world. 
The sun and the storm strive to make him an out- 
cast, parching the earth into deserts or sweeping 
away its products as with the strokes of an aven- 
ger. 

He is no longer the world's ruler. Lisbon 
wails from its gaping earthquakes ; buried Pompeii 
lifts up its smothered cry from beneath the ashes 
and lava which have whelmed its gay and guilty 
people ; Goldau laments for its fair and virtuous 
inhabitants buried in a common grave; coral 
floors and halls of the sea send up their requiem 
for sunken navies and merchantmen ; gloomy 
jungles are grim with the bleached skeletons of 
men torn by beasts ; here and there the lightning 
and the tornado have left their fearful path ; all 
showing that the earth is in no mood to acknowl- 
edge its subjection. 



THE DISCROWNING OF MAN I 5 

If man, with these odds against him, has done 
so much in art, in architecture, in science, in good 
learning, in affairs, so that imposing monuments 
everywhere attest his achievements, what might he 
not have done with his dominion preserved and 
asserted? Now, ruins, the broken memorials of 
what has been, are the most decisive proofs of 
the greatness of the mortal architect. 

The crown is fallen from the head, and the 
earth shares in the woe of man. The whole crea- 
tion groans and travails in pain together until 
now. The earth is waiting in patience for its lord, 
for the time when this lost sovereignty shall be 
regained. 

3. We may trace this discrowning in the realm of 
mental endowments. At first, not only were these 
of a noble rank, for man was made but a little 
lower than the angels, they were also worthily 
employed. The intellect was clear and strong, 
the affections were pure and holy, the will was 
right. The mind was royal. It sat as king on an 
undisputed throne. It was in perfect harmony 
with God. It saw things as he saw them. It was 
in the image of the divine Father. It was loyal, 
true, free from fault, growing in knowledge and in 
every excellence. And what a future opened 
before it ! Heights of vision, of power, of 
blessedness, invited its ascent. So it might have 
gone on, without a hindrance, without a stain, 



1 6 THE DISCROWNING OF MAN 

nearer to God forever. The growth of a sinless 
mind is one of the sublimest things of which we 
can conceive. To it come serene and grand 
thoughts ; in it well up loving and broad 
affections ; from it proceed pure purposes and 
holy activities. All littleness, all meanness, all 
low indulgences are forever absent from such a 
mind. It takes in the warm sunshine of the 
divine favor and all healthful growths spring up 
and flourish and mature within it. 

But now, what a ruin is there ! I do not speak 
of those minds merely in which the reason is 
dethroned, of lunatics who gibber and mumble in 
cells and in the wards of hospitals, of idiots 
whose vacant stare tells of the emptiness within. 
But I speak of all minds that have swung loose 
from obligation, of the race in its sinfulness which 
is the mother of disorder and derangement. 

Anarchy and revolt have taken the place of 
peace and loyalty. The crown is fallen, . and 
rebellion riots in the palace of the mind. Woe 
unto us that we have sinned ! All is downward, not 
toward the earth alone, but toward the deeper 
depths, toward the deep damnation of perdition, the 
fathomless abyss of despair. This is the vandal work 
of sin. The metropolis of thought, to which came 
up the loaded caravans from distant regions of wealth 
and productiveness ; to which thronged ships 
from ports across restless seas, laden with the 



THE DISCROWNING OF MAN 1 7 

spoils of warriors and with the products of labor, 
to which journeyed men of learning, great artists 
and pious priests, ambassadors of empires and 
princes of the blood, has been sacked and pol- 
luted by the hosts of sin, its cathedrals have been 
burned with fire and its palaces leveled to the 
dust. 

The world of matter, in all its gloomy desola- 
tions, in the sack of temples and the overthrow 
of cities, presents nothing so dreadful as the ruins 
of mind. The genius of history weeps at the loss 
of the Alexandrian library, by which the gathered 
trophies of ancient learning were swept into obliv- 
ion in a day ; but a single mind, thrown from its 
orbit and projected into the whirl and darkness of 
sin, is a far sadder loss. We lament the destruc- 
tion of the choice works of ancient art, whose 
broken fragments, rescued from the wave and the 
rubbish, are the admiration of all students, in 
which might have been given to us the form and 
features of the men who made history, but far more 
lamentable is the waste and the perdition of the 
souls that were gifted, souls that might have been 
great in achievement and immortal in goodness. 

The downfall of a man is more than the downfall 
of an empire. The latter can be repaired and a 
nobler empire take its place made wise by the 
ruin of the former; but there is no repair or recov- 
ery of a soul that is lost forevermore. 



20 THE DISCROWNING OF MAN 

scepter passed from his hands ; so the woe of 
depravity enshrouded him in its gloom and 
wretchedness. It is pitiful to see such downfall. 

About a century ago there was one who 
rose from a humble rank with imperial strides to 
the throne of the most warlike and gallant of the 
nations. Power came spontaneously to his hands. 
His victorious legions were successful on all 
battle-fields and against all armies. He gave 
away crowns with royal generosity. He brought 
to his gorgeous capital the treasures of conquered 
lands, and enriched his palaces with the chief 
works of art. The enthusiasm of his people for 
their hero rose beyond all precedent. The hum- 
blest conscript was devoted to his fortunes. At 
times it seemed as though he were to realize the 
wild dream of universal empire. Formidable 
combinations against him dissolved at the magic 
of his sword. His name thrilled through con- 
tinents. 

From that he fell. Almost alone, on a barren 
rock, dashed on every side by the billows, he was 
doomed to weary years of exile ; and there he 
fretted his great life away, watched by the sleep- 
less eye of his enemy, and forgotten by the friends 
who had shared his successful fortunes. It was 
force alone that made that emperor yield up his 
crown. 

More than three centuries ago, a monarch, in 



THE DISCROWNING OF MAN 2 1 

the midst of life, with crowns and coronets on his 
head and in his hands, laid down his royalty and 
stepped from an imperial throne into the retire- 
ment of a secluded monastery. He was born to 
the throne, and before he was of age he wore the 
regal mantle. On many battle-fields he proved 
himself the foremost warrior of the time, and his 
kingdom widened and grew upon his hands until 
the sun went not down upon his realm. For forty 
years he had accustomed himself to the exercise 
of power, until the atmosphere of the court and 
the camp was necessary to his life. Yet he left 
it all, and with pale face passed his scepter to 
another. In his soul he felt himself unequal to 
his burdens. His day of triumph had passed and 
quick reverses were dashing his dreams. He fled 
to the shadows of the mountains and the dull 
society of monks from fear of calamity that was 
hounding him. 

More than fifteen centuries since one of the 
ablest emperors of Rome abdicated the throne 
and retired to his palace by the seashore, where, 
amidst his extensive and productive gardens, he 
found repose, and cherished no regret. 

But there has been no discrowning like the first. 
All others have only changed the externals of the 
parties concerned ; the men have remained the 
same. But this changed both what was external 
and what was internal as well. It overthrew the 



THE DISCROWNING OF MAN 2 1 

the midst of life, with crowns and coronets on his 
head and in his hands, laid down his royalty and 
stepped from an imperial throne into the retire- 
ment of a secluded monastery. He was born to 
the throne, and before he was of age he wore the 
regal mantle. On many battle-fields he proved 
himself the foremost warrior of the time, and his 
kingdom widened and grew upon his hands until 
the sun went not down upon his realm. For forty 
years he had accustomed himself to the exercise 
of power, until the atmosphere of the court and 
the camp was necessary to his life. Yet he left 
it all, and with pale face passed his scepter to 
another. In his soul he felt himself unequal to 
his burdens. His day of triumph had passed and 
quick reverses were dashing his dreams. He fled 
to the shadows of the mountains and the dull 
society of monks from fear of calamity that was 
hounding him. 

More than fifteen centuries since one of the 
ablest emperors of Rome abdicated the throne 
and retired to his palace by the seashore, where, 
amidst his extensive and productive gardens, he 
found repose, and cherished no regret. 

But there has been no discrowning like the first. 
All others have only changed the externals of the 
parties concerned ; the men have remained the 
same. But this changed both what was external 
and what was internal as well. It overthrew the 




II 



THE CHRISTIAN'S CORONATION 



" Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of right- 
eousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give to 
me at that day : and not only to me, but also to all them that 
have loved his appearing.' 11 — 2 Timothy 4:8. 



At Calvary Church, Philadelphia. 



2 8 THE CHRISTIAN'S CORONATION 

of Rome that he projected his great work of the 
Decline and Fall. There was a magic in those 
silent and dreary emblems which summoned before 
him the scenes and persons of the past. He saw 
the forum once vocal with Roman eloquence, 
the temples once hallowed with Roman worship, 
the coliseum once crowded with Roman spec- 
tators, and the streets and the dwellings once full 
of Roman life, springing into reality. Again the 
senate sat and the voices of Rome's great orators 
were heard. Again the conquering legions poured 
along the broad highways, returning from victo- 
ries to their triumphal welcome home. Again the 
old men and women, the young men and maidens, 
mingled in the festivals and filled the city with the 
tides of life. Again uprose stately column and 
capital, and walls that had long been prostrate, 
adorned anew by architects and crowded with the 
noble statuary of artists. He had only to follow 
the suggestions of what he saw lying grandly and 
gloomily around him to rebuild and people the 
seven-hilled city and to live back its historic life. 

So as we look on the moral ruins of the race, 
on powers prostrate and perverted, on souls hurled 
from their places of light and beauty, on minds 
deranged and chained to earth that might have 
trooped upward like angels to the throne, on a 
dominion that is lost, on forms torn and suffering 
and bent under the burden of sin, on clashing 



II 
THE CHRISTIAN'S CORONATION 



" Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of right- 
eousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give to 
me at that day : and not only to me, but also to all them that 
have loved his appearing.' 1 — 2 Timothy 4:8. 



At Calvary Church, Philadelphia. 



2 8 THE CHRISTIAN'S CORONATION 

of Rome that he projected his great work of the 
Decline and Fall. There was a magic in those 
silent and dreary emblems which summoned before 
him the scenes and persons of the past. He saw 
the forum once vocal with Roman eloquence, 
the temples once hallowed with Roman worship, 
the coliseum once crowded with Roman spec- 
tators, and the streets and the dwellings once full 
of Roman life, springing into reality. Again the 
senate sat and the voices of Rome's great orators 
were heard. Again the conquering legions poured 
along the broad highways, returning from victo- 
ries to their triumphal welcome home. Again the 
old men and women, the young men and maidens, 
mingled in the festivals and filled the city with the 
tides of life. Again uprose stately column and 
capital, and walls that had long been prostrate, 
adorned anew by architects and crowded with the 
noble statuary of artists. He had only to follow 
the suggestions of what he saw lying grandly and 
gloomily around him to rebuild and people the 
seven-hilled city and to live back its historic life. 

So as we look on the moral ruins of the race, 
on powers prostrate and perverted, on souls hurled 
from their places of light and beauty, on minds 
deranged and chained to earth that might have 
trooped upward like angels to the throne, on a 
dominion that is lost, on forms torn and suffering 
and bent under the burden of sin, on clashing 



THE CHRISTIAN'S CORONATION 29 

interests and passions all at war, on the turmoil 
and woe of men, we feel the shock of the fall 
and the scroll of a dark history unrolls before us. 
There is an aspect of the ruin of what was once 
great and good. The crown is fallen from a regal 
head ; woe is unto us that we have sinned ! 

United with this, separable from it, though 
mingled with it like the warp and woof of a fabric, 
is the aspect of restoration. 

The view of the world is not all dark. Light 
beams amidst the shadows. There are tones of 
pure melody thrilling through the discords. As 
in old Oriental ruins, amidst heaps of rubbish, 
there will now and then flash out the light of a 
precious stone telling of the wealth and nobility 
that once were there, so with all that is dark 
in our discrowned humanity, we may see some 
brightness, the relic of our earliest past, the 
prophecy of our brighter future. The costly gems 
of the crown, flung loosely in its fall, can be 
regained and wrought into a more regal coronet. 
The Scriptures are full of the prophecy of a 
restoration. They tell us, in varied speech, of a 
crown that is to be worn by redeemed man. The 
old royalty is to be regained. The lost dominion 
is to be acquired again. The prince who has 
been outlawed, who has been driven far from his 
ancestral towers and whose enemies have hunted 
him from land to land, is to return welcomed by 



32 THE CHRISTIAN'S CORONATION 

been and others had risen in a corresponding 
ratio. The throne within him was more than the 
throne without. 

And such is the change wrought by religion. 
It infuses royal ideas into the mind. It gives its 
possessor self-control and the dignity of noble 
character. 

The greatest king is he who has the sublime 
mastery of himself. The monarch of millions may 
be less royal than many of his subjects. It is not 
titles, nor crown jewels, nor the purple robe, can 
give to any one true kingship. There is a higher 
coronation. It is the enthronement of the man's 
own self : so that he is no longer as a slave, so 
that he no longer wears a yoke of subjection to 
any low indulgence or passion, so that pure and 
worthy motives meet response within him, so that 
he is brought into the company and communion 
of regal souls to whom belongs the kinghood of 
the ages. Such a man is a crowned monarch. 
No visible hand may have placed upon his brow 
the gemmed coronet. From no consecrated per- 
son may he have received the benediction that is 
accorded to kings. Through no line of royal 
ancestors may have descended to him the scepter 
that he is to wield. No plaudits of admiring mul- 
titudes may have announced his coronation. But 
he walks the world every inch a king. He has 
met himself and conquered, and there is thence- 



THE CHRISTIAN'S CORONATION 29 

interests and passions all at war, on the turmoil 
and woe of men, we feel the shock of the fall 
and the scroll of a dark history unrolls before us. 
There is an aspect of the ruin of what was once 
great and good. The crown is fallen from a regal 
head ; woe is unto us that we have sinned ! 

United with this, separable from it, though 
mingled with it like the warp and woof of a fabric, 
is the aspect of restoration. 

The view of the world is not all dark. Light 
beams amidst the shadows. There are tones of 
pure melody thrilling through the discords. As 
in old Oriental ruins, amidst heaps of rubbish, 
there will now and then flash out the light of a 
precious stone telling of the wealth and nobility 
that once were there, so with all that is dark 
in our discrowned humanity, we may see some 
brightness, the relic of our earliest past, the 
prophecy of our brighter future. The costly gems 
of the crown, flung loosely in its fall, can be 
regained and wrought into a more regal coronet. 
The Scriptures are full of the prophecy of a 
restoration. They tell us, in varied speech, of a 
crown that is to be worn by redeemed man. The 
old royalty is to be regained. The lost dominion 
is to be acquired again. The prince who has 
been outlawed, who has been driven far from his 
ancestral towers and whose enemies have hunted 
him from land to land, is to return welcomed by 



32 THE CHRISTIAN'S CORONATION 

been and others had risen in a corresponding 
ratio. The throne within him was more than the 
throne without. 

And such is the change wrought by religion. 
It infuses royal ideas into the mind. It gives its 
possessor self-control and the dignity of noble 
character. 

The greatest king is he who has the sublime 
mastery of himself. The monarch of millions may 
be less royal than many of his subjects. It is not 
titles, nor crown jewels, nor the purple robe, can 
give to any one true kingship. There is a higher 
coronation. It is the enthronement of the man's 
own self : so that he is no longer as a slave, so 
that he no longer wears a yoke of subjection to 
any low indulgence or passion, so that pure and 
worthy motives meet response within him, so that 
he is brought into the company and communion 
of regal souls to whom belongs the kinghood of 
the ages. Such a man is a crowned monarch. 
No visible hand may have placed upon his brow 
the gemmed coronet. From no consecrated per- 
son may he have received the benediction that is 
accorded to kings. Through no line of royal 
ancestors may have descended to him the scepter 
that he is to wield. No plaudits of admiring mul- 
titudes may have announced his coronation. But 
he walks the world every inch a king. He has 
met himself and conquered, and there is thence- 



THE CHRISTIAN'S CORONATION 33 

forth no other foe so formidable. He who is mas- 
ter of himself is master of all others. There is no 
force can subdue him who is victor of himself. 
The greatest empire is that whose imperial bound- 
aries are the man's own circumference. There are 
no territorial lines that can include and confine the 
measure of a single soul. 

The greatest emperor may be baser than the 
lowest serf within his realm. Some humble serf 
may rank him in the heraldry of princes. It is 
not outward pomp and rank can ennoble mind. 
Royalty is within ; its banners are good and holy 
works. The emperor may be base in mind, held 
in thraldom by imperious passions and degrading 
habits ; the serf may be noble in thought and feel- 
ing and free purpose, in all but the mere outward 
place and pomp. Who would not prefer the 
crown of the latter to that of the former? 

The king in Christ Jesus has self-dominion. 
Once he was a slave. Now he has prison cells for 
the traitors who rise up within the palace of his 
own mind, and they are thrust down there and 
held there. 

He who can walk the world in this freedom is 
the anointed one, is king by divine right. He 
dwells in a palace built by no human hand ; his 
courtiers are high thoughts and pure motives ; his 
executive is the loyal and unconquerable will. 
This is royalty ; not that which rests on the huz- 
3 



34 the CHRISTIAN'S coronation 

zas of a fickle populace, but on the election of a 
soul that God has made immortal. 

2. The Christian is crowned by virtue of his 
regal possessions. He has no limited empire, 
with the territories of rivals and enemies bordering 
his own who may invade and enslave him. Some 
great conquerors have been fascinated by the 
dream of universal empire. How vain the dream ! 
One such died after a debauch, lamenting that he 
could gain no more ; another fell by the daggers 
of assassins ; another met his solitary fate on a 
barren rock in mid-sea. 

Religion realizes this ideal. The possession of 
the world is restored in Christ. And not this 
alone, but all worlds become the inheritance of the 
saints. Says the apostle, "All things are yours; 
whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world, 
or life, or death, or things present, or things to 
come ; all are yours." 

We gain more in Christ than we lost in Adam. 
We lost one world ; we gain the universe. We 
lost one crown ; we gain another far more brilliant. 
We receive tribute from all worlds. The past, 
with its wealth of experience, with its history of 
martyrs and its bold testimony of prophets and 
confessors, with its revolutions, its sufferings, its 
science, its psalms and hymns, the soul-gushings 
of heroes and of seers, is all for us. For us the 
world stands, loaded with its immortal freight, yet 



THE CHRISTIAN'S CORONATION 35 

burning with pent-up fires that flame and roar for 
outlet. 

For the Christian is to be the future, bright with 
promise, holy with its universal love. He is to sit 
with Christ on his throne ; a joint-heir with the 
divine Son to the kingdom that has no limits. 
His empire is universal. Such regal possessions 
dwarf the kingdoms and estates of this world. 

3. This coronation admits to royal society. 
In common opinion, there is a divinity that 
hedges round a king. Royal blood is considered 
as rather better blood than that which runs in 
ordinary veins. It certainly has been more 
bloody. Regal families dwell apart. Few can 
gain access to them. The old hereditary mon- 
archs carry a disdainful air and tone toward those 
who have risen from the vulgar level to thrones. 
Cromwell was stigmatized as a parvenu, and so 
were the Napoleons. Nothing but their power 
unbarred for them the palaces of their neighbors. 
When Cromwell was dead, his body was dug up 
and hung ; when he was living, his imperial arms 
brought pliant ambassadors to his court from 
most powerful states. The Napoleons had con- 
ferences and visits with monarchs who would have 
frowned them out of their presence if they had 
dared. 

The new birth of the soul makes one a heredi- 
tary king. His heraldry is most regal. His an- 



$6 THE CHRISTIAN'S CORONATION 

cestry is divine. His fraternity is that of right 
royal souls. The loftiest and purest society is 
freely open to him. The really great of this 
world are his best friends, and they invite his 
presence with fraternal affection. The kings in 
thought, in purpose, in holy achievement, the 
foremost men in learning, in benevolence, in 
charity, whose names are more enduring than 
brass, or the marble that commemorates royal 
deeds, the saints of all ages, laureled poets, 
ordained priests, crowned princes, these are his 
peers. He has daily audience, too, with the King 
of kings, not with the dread of the suppliant of old, 
not with the sense of remoteness and coldness, but 
as a son with a father, as a friend with a friend. 
He is a son of God. The royalty of heaven is his. 

4. There is the enthronement of God in the 
renewed man. Sin, while it banished man from 
paradise, banished God also from man. He was 
shut out from the human soul, and that wonderful 
organism, which had been illumined with divine 
light, became dark. Man was alone in his rebel- 
lion ; he was, in most suggestive phrase, without 
God. But the restoration by Christ brings God 
back again. It unites the soul and its Maker. It 
places the king on his rightful throne. God and 
man are at one. Here is the true regality. 

Man is not himself when he is separated from 
the Godhead. His powers work normally only 



THE CHRISTIAN'S CORONATION 37 

when they work in the divine will. Their action 
is earthly when man lives apart ; it is heavenly 
when he lives in God, and when God lives in him. 
There should be but one supreme will in all the 
universe. All other wills should glide into that 
and work in unison with it. It belongs to us, as 
the highest law of our life, the disregard of which 
leaves us dead, to know no will but God's. Our 
life should come from him. We should, as a per- 
manent, all-controlling decision of the whole mind, 
elect God as our all, in whom and for whom we 
are to live. That endows us with a divine life. 
Our sustenance is from God, and the whole move- 
ment of our being is in perfect harmony with his. 
More and more he takes possession of us, living 
out his pure agency through us. 

So God is enthroned in the Christian. He 
lives, because God lives in him ; he reigns, be- 
cause God reigns in him. He thus sits down with 
Christ on his throne ; he is one with the world's 
King, and his coronation is divine. To such king- 
hood does the restoration exalt the renewed be- 
liever. And, as the sovereignty of Christ is real- 
ized most fully in heaven, it is there that the final 
and perfect coronation of the Christian is to be 
witnessed. Here he is a king in disguise. But 
he is to be recognized and crowned hereafter. He 
is to come like a conqueror to Zion. An eternal 
weight of glory is to be given to him. I appoint 



38 THE christian's coronation 

unto you, said our Lord, a kingdom as my father 
hath appointed unto me ; that ye may sit on 
thrones. When the son of man shall sit on the 
throne of his glory, ye also shall sit upon thrones. 
If children, then heirs ; heirs of God and joint- 
heirs with Christ. The praises of that world shall 
be given, as the Revelation tells us, unto Him 
that loved us and hath made us kings and priests, 
unto God and his Father. 

There have been many majestic assemblages, 
when the crowns of ancient kingdoms and empires 
have been placed upon anointed and consecrated 
heads. Nobles of the realm, the venerable digni- 
taries of the state and of the Church, ambassadors 
of foreign powers, great scholars, the beauty of 
peerless women, the pomp of military pageantry, 
and the charm of music, have united to give splen- 
dor and glory to the event. But earth has wit- 
nessed nothing so imposing and beautiful as the 
coronations of heaven. Its inhabitants are. the 
elect of earth, the elite of all lands and ages, the 
loyal and holy angels of God. Amongst these, 
in the midst of such august and holy assemblages, 
are the sons of God to receive the investiture of 
their undecaying crowns. 

There have been restorations in secular history. 
Five centuries and a half before the Christian era, 
after a captivity of seventy years, the conqueror of 
Babylon sent forth a herald throughout his realms 



39 

to proclaim a return of all the people of the God 
of heaven to their own land. From Babylon and 
from other cities of the East, in great caravans, 
the Hebrew exiles, with their camels and horses 
and beasts of burden, took up their march for the 
sacred hills of Palestine. For four months they 
traveled on, and then, with psalms and cymbals 
and exulting shouts, they ascended the summits of 
Jerusalem, and reared an altar to the living God, 
amidst the ruins of the ancient temple. Joyful was 
that restoration of the Hebrews to their estates and 
worship. 

Two hundred years ago a proud pageant was 
enacted in old England. On the white beach of 
Dover, amidst the acclaim of the immense multi- 
tude who thronged to receive him, landed the 
exiled king of England. For years he had been a 
stranger to his throne and an outlaw from his 
realm. But the people had called back their 
monarch. Nobles who had remained loyal, 
scarred soldiers who had followed the standards 
of the Protector, statesmen and people, vied to do 
him honor. Banners waved. Cannon thundered 
forth their welcome. Bells rang out the joy of 
the nation. Songs, flowers, shouts, tears, ex- 
pressed the popular heart. All the way from the 
sea to the capital the road was hedged with 
masses of the people, all wearing a look of glad- 
ness. London was alive with joy. The king 



40 THE CHRISTIAN S CORONATION 

entered that old city like a conqueror, in triumph. 
Old men had never seen such a tide of enthusiasm. 
The streets, every window and balcony, the spires 
of churches and the roofs of houses, teemed with 
loyal men and happy women. The intoxication 
of gladness and gratitude was contagious and uni- 
versal. Never did crowned king receive a more 
spontaneous and popular ovation. This event is 
known in history as the Restoration. 

Forty-five years ago an analogous scene was 
witnessed in the rival nation across the chan- 
nel. Bursting from his exile at Elba the dis- 
crowned emperor landed on the shore of France. 
The mountaineers of Dauphine hailed his return. 
His old soldiers, sent out to apprehend him, 
rushed from their ranks, prostrated themselves at 
his feet, and with mingled tears and shouts wel- 
comed him as their emperor. Resistance was in 
vain. The great marshals of the empire ranked 
themselves in his favor, and the army, wild with 
enthusiasm, joined their fortunes to those of the 
greatest soldier of the age. With characteristic 
impetuosity he flew on to Paris, where he was 
received with unbounded manifestations of exulta- 
tion. Crowds of officers and soldiers filled the 
palace court, on whose uplifted arms he was borne 
within the historic walls of the Tuileries, where 
beauty and bravery joined in greeting his arrival. 
Again the emperor wore the diadem of France. 



THE CHRISTIAN'S CORONATION 4 1 

Feebly can these scenes, and such as these, in 
history, represent to us the restoration of the soul 
and its final coronation. They were scenes of a 
day, swept from sight with the swift progress of 
events. 

But the blessed crown of the Christian is 
enduring. It will shine when the jewels of all 
human coronets have paled and turned to dust. 
It will grow more brilliant and more precious as 
eternity moves on. 

We are not, then, to turn despondingly back to 
the glory that we have lost and to pine for the 
shattered crown of our first father ; rather we are 
diligently to win that crown of righteousness which 
the Lord will give unto all those who love his 
appearing. 



Ill 

THE ENDLESSNESS OF CHRIST'S 
LOVE 



Having loved his own which were in the world, he loved 
them unto the end. — John 13 : 1. 



At Installation in Congregational Church, Vine- 
land, N. J., Sept., 1872, 



THE ENDLESSNESS OF CHRIST'S LOVE 



The love that endures is most worthy, is, in 
fact, the only love that is worth having. The 
affection that gushes like a geyser, steaming away 
in hot spurts and shooting upward with imposing 
effect for twenty minutes, is of no practical 
account and is not really anything great as an 
exhibition. Friendship is a principle as well as a 
passion. It is based on character. It is built up 
like a wall of granite, of shapely blocks, squarely 
matched, to stand through storms, through 
changes, through convulsions. Time does not 
destroy it, but only gives it solidity. Other prin- 
ciples or passions do not supplant it; amidst them 
it endures, retaining its early characteristics. 

Just here we might distinguish the true friend- 
ship from its counterfeit. The semblance is 
weak and transient and easily ended ; the true 
abides, holding its own as the years pass and the 
revolutions occur and the orbits of human thought 



46 THE ENDLESSNESS OF CHRIST'S LOVE 

change. A selfish love ends with the occasion 
that excited it. A true love waxes stronger in 
trial and survives misfortune and remains when 
other things are lost. I have said, a selfish love, 
I should have said, a selfish passion ; for love is 
unselfish; it sacrifices for its object; it remits its 
own choices and pleasures for another's welfare 
and gratification ; it finds its purest delight in the 
happiness of the loved one. That friendship 
which is exacting and selfish is short-lived, as it 
ought to be. The friendship that is generous and 
sacrificial is enduring and noble. In that sweet- 
est story of Hebrew friendship, the monarch's 
son, the regal heir of the kingdom, puts even the 
crown upon the head of his friend. Love could 
feel no loss. In touching elegy, at his early dying, 
his fortunate friend memorized his wonderful 
affection : " Thy love to me was wonderful, pass- 
ing the love of women." And in the renowned 
story of Grecian friendship, death was not too 
strong a test; the utter willingness of one to die 
for the other broke the tyrant's heart. Love 
could do what power could not do. 

The real friendship lasts ; it lasts up to the line 
that divides the seen from the unseen ; it lasts 
beyond, into the unseen, but real ; in the realm of 
widest thought and purest affection, where 
acquaintance is brotherhood and union is eternal. 
We have felt its thrill hard on the confines of 



THE ENDLESSNESS OF CHRIST'S LOVE 47 

heaven, as we have gone close to mysteries with 
those who were leaving us, as hands have 
unclasped ours to take hold of the hands of 
angels. The love of the lifetime, grown strong in 
the experiences which have been shared together, 
hallowed by trial, gladdened by common joys, 
has been fullest and ripest as the earth-life has 
ended, has glowed with warmest tenderness and 
devotion amidst the sinking of the bodily and 
mental faculties, as the greatest glory of the day 
gathers in crimson and golden flames around the 
sinking sun. We cannot doubt its continuance 
beyond, where our eyesight does not reach, but 
where our soul-sight pierces, in realms that are 
real though unknown, peopled by those who were 
with us, and are still of us, our kindred by closest 
relationship, one with us by common, sacred 
blood, and with whom we soon shall be. For the 
friendship that endures rests in the common love 
to Christ. All else ends. The friendship in noble 
pursuits, as in the researches of science, in the 
lore of letters, in the problems of statecraft, in 
whatever is essentially of the earth, must become 
only a memory when the earth and the works of 
it shall be burned up. But the love that is in 
Christ centers in him and endures with him and is 
eternal. It has the qualities of his love. " As I 
have loved you, that ye also love one another." 
" That the love wherewith thou hast loved me 



48 THE ENDLESSNESS OF CHRIST'S LOVE 

may be in them, and I in them." Christ's love 
lasted. It survived his fortunes and their fortunes, 
all that was propitious, all that was untoward, the 
hail to kingship, the hurrying to crucifixion, their 
following, their flight. Through all it beamed on, 
as steadily as the light of a fixed star. " Having 
loved his own who were in the world, he loved 
them unto the end." My subject is: 

The Endlessness of Christ* s Love. 

In his tender and affectionate references to his 
Father he often made mention of the wonderful 
love that subsisted between them. He speaks in 
comparison, " As the Father hath loved me." 
And he would live and act, "That the world may 
know that I love the Father." As though his pur- 
est happiness were there he says, "I . . . abide in 
his love." And through all the woe of his earthly 
life, remained the untold comfort that he should 
" go to the Father." In the solitariness of his 
work he was not alone, "because the Father is 
with me." In the absorbing earnestness of his 
remarkable prayer for his disciples, in which he 
moves the paternal heart in their behalf by the 
urgency of their common love, he says, " For thou 
lovedst me before the foundation of the world." 

This expression carries the thought back into 
the eternity that was, before the creations began. 
Then, in all the countless ages, when the blessed, 



THE ENDLESSNESS OF CHRIST'S LOVE 49 

infinite Persons of the Godhead were alone, in the 
glory and perfections of their being, they found 
the purest happiness in their own society and love. 
Not a world had rolled out into space, not a crea- 
ture had been formed and informed with life. 
Only God was. The universe was full of him 
alone. Throughout the eternal past, in unbroken, 
countless milleniums, back beyond all thought of 
duration the Father and the Son had lived and 
loved together. For their own happiness the Per- 
sons of the Godhead needed no creation. In the 
stillness of the unpeopled space, in the solitariness 
of their sole being, they were infinitely happy in 
each other. They were more to each other than 
all other beings could be to them, though stars 
should be flung forth through the boundless void 
and every star be crowded with populations. In 
that endless past Christ was the dearly beloved of 
the Father; and the Father was all in all to him. 
He defines his own place there as " in the bosom 
of the Father." Phrase full of suggestion ! Here 
is nearness and dearness, oneness of heart, perfect- 
ness of love. And so they loved unto the begin- 
ning. Christ was used to a persistent love. He 
had loved long and with unchanging steadfastness 
before he loved his own which were in the world. 
We cannot, by any experiences of ours, measure 
the infinite love of these divine Persons ; but per- 
fect and precious as it was, it did not stand in the 

4 



50 THE ENDLESSNESS OF CHRIST'S LOVE 

way of the Redeemer's work for man. That work 
was not hastily decided upon. It belonged to 
the counsels of eternity. It entered into the whole 
plan of the world's creating and populating. The 
Redemption runs back in the thought and purpose 
of God to the remotest past. He who made the 
world would save the world. There was an ante- 
advent love. Christ's coming was only the fulfill- 
ment of his eternal purpose. 

There was a long time of waiting and of watch- 
ing. Not only through those milleniums which 
slowly passed after sin began its work of desola- 
tion, but through countless durations before that, 
was the Lord intent on salvation. When the full- 
ness of the time should come, he would be ready 
to be offered. He ever looked forward to his 
redemptive undertaking as certain to come. 
Understanding all that was involved in it, he 
would enter upon and finish it. Love was the 
underlying principle of redemption. " For God 
so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten 
Son." And " the love of Christ, which passeth 
knowledge " moved him to come into the world. 
From eternity he had thought of his own ; all his 
other vast plans involved this, that he should die 
for them ; their redemption, by his own offering, 
was as certain as the future. It was, then, no new 
thing, no suddenly devised interposition to stop 
the woe of sin. It was old. It was older than 



THE ENDLESSNESS OF CHRIST'S LOVE 5 I 

creation. It runs back of all our numeration. Its 
origin is in the remote eternity. It was a divine, 
eternal purpose. When brought, therefore, to 
actual experience it would stand. Having loved 
his own which were in the world, he would love 
them unto the end. He would not abandon them. 
He would not permit his greatest undertaking to 
come to nought. It was an eternal purpose which 
would move on to the end. 

At last the waiting time was over ; on the world 
was the advent of its Creator to save it. He came 
to fulfil the promises which had rolled forth in 
prophetic utterances ; to fulfil his own divine plan 
of human rescue. The devotion with which he 
gave himself for his own assured the endlessness 
of his love for them. All else gave way to that. 
All those things that are attractive to all other 
minds he put away, he did not even stop to con- 
sider. Power, wealth, learning, influence, success, 
as men look at them, were not within the scope 
of his life. He moved along another plane. He 
held steadily before him another object. These 
things of the world did not belong to him. He 
had left heaven on a different errand. He had 
appeared on the earth as its divine Redeemer. Sin 
was doing its tragic work and leaving everywhere 
its terrible tracks. It was spoiling human love. It 
was hurling the finest minds into wretchedness and 
ruin. It was laying its withering touch on the 



52 THE ENDLESSNESS OF CHRIST'S LOVE 

noblest works of men. It was making the world 
one vast charnel-house, filled with graves and 
piled with dead. 

And Christ came as its Deliverer, leaving heaven 
and its glory behind and assuming all the burdens 
and sorrows and sufferings that were necessary 
in the fulfillment of his mission. He gave him- 
self to this one work. He was tempted to aban- 
don it, but temptation had no power over him. 
He was rejected by those whom he came to 
save, but their cruel rejection did not turn him 
aside. He was led forth as a lamb to the slaugh- 
ter, but he bore his own cross to the place of 
crucifixion. 

At one time, marvel of marvels ! the Father for- 
sook him, but he trod the wine-press alone. On, 
from the beginning to the fearful end, through all 
obstacles, against all enemies, under all heavy bur- 
dens, amidst scorn and sorrow and unutterable 
anguish at times, he pressed with a fortitude that 
did not falter and an affection that was infinite. 
Every place where he toiled and taught became a 
memorial of his devotion. He lifted Nazareth 
from its ignoble obscurity to the foremost rank in 
the thought of the world. Bethlehem gained a 
greater glory from its association with his name 
than from its historic fame as a royal city. He 
invested Samaria with peculiar honor as the 
Teacher and the Saviour of its despised population. 



THE ENDLESSNESS OF CHRIST'S LOVE 53 

Capernaum thrills our hearts with its voices of 
bane and of blessing, with its works of mercy and its 
utterances of woe, from the same divine Person, 
who would wish to save, but who could not fail to 
forewarn of the evil that was sure to come. Tabor 
and Olivet and Bethany received a new sacredness 
from his association with them. Every path on 
which he traveled through Judaea and Gallilee was 
thenceforward a sacred way, on which the feet of 
pilgrims from all lands tread with reverence. The 
waves of Tiberias and the waters of the Jordan roll 
evermore as in unceasing anthem to his praise. 
Jerusalem, city of God, joy of the whole earth, is 
consecrated more by his tears and precious words, 
by his benedictions and his agonies, than by the 
coronations of its kings and the royalties of its 
thrones and the sacredness of its priesthood and 
its temples. In every place, in all conditions, one 
solemn purpose controlled him. His whole life 
was given for man. The soreness of his own lot 
did not make him swerve ; no more did the weak- 
ness and waywardness of his chosen disciples. He 
put up with denial, he endured betrayal, he went 
straight on to crucifixion. Calvary became con- 
secrate in the sacred thought and feeling of the 
world, and the cross, on which the Redeemer died, 
became the holy emblem of all that is most pre- 
cious to men. He loved unto death. He com- 
mended his love for us in that, while we were yet 



54 THE ENDLESSNESS OF CHRIST'S LOVE 

sinners, he died for us. Such love as this can 
know no end. 

Furthermore, the achievements of his love — 
what we have already seen of it — are prophetic of 
the future union in love of Christ and his own, 
through a coming eternity. Having loved as he 
has in this world, he will love in the coming world. 
Having loved in mortality, he will love in immor- 
tality. Having loved in weakness, he will love in 
power. Having loved in dishonor, he will love 
in glory. Having loved in the bodily life, he will 
love in the spiritual life. 

He will greet his own on "the other side." 
Whatever their earthly homes may have been, 
however obscure and humble, he will open to them 
"mansions" there. Some from the toil of slaves, 
some from the wretchedness of poverty, all from 
the risks and uncertainties of the earthly service, 
he will raise to thrones. It is his imperial pur- 
pose that they shall be with him where he is, that 
they may behold his glory, that they may share 
his kingship, that they may unceasingly enjoy his 
love. Honors and positions here are subject to 
inevitable reverses. The favorite of to-day may be 
the outlaw of to-morrow. But the positions of 
heaven, once gained, are never lost. The crowns 
of that world are subject to no corrosion. The 
friendship of Christ is eternal. He will love to the 
end. The measureless progression of unbounded 



THE ENDLESSNESS OF CHRIST'S LOVE 55 

futurities will reach no limit and no diminution of 
his infinite affection. It will grow by its own use 
and gratification. 

As the multiplication of a single planted grain, 
increasing year by year, in geometrical ratio, will 
at length cover a continent with its opulent har- 
vests, so the love of Christ will fill all the eternities 
with its abounding fullness and make all loyal and 
loving hearts infinitely and forever glad in their 
blessed union to him. We know little of the occu- 
pations and the prerogatives of the heavenly life ; 
but as Christ's work has made this world blessed 
and given sweetness to service here and inspired 
human hearts with song and affluent hope and 
every grace that is divine, so will it make heaven 
a happy world to all the saved, and give inspira- 
tion to every service and every song and every 
sentiment forever and ever. He who loved to the 
end here will love his own with an endless affec- 
tion in that world that shall know no end. 

This established doctrine of the endlessness of 
Christ's love is full of the most suggestive encour- 
agements to us. He loves his own, but not those 
only. He loves all, and he died for all because he 
loved them. Between himself and his own is a 
personal friendship, growing out of the very fact 
of their acceptance of him and of their union to 
him. It is the dearest of all relationships. It 
overpasses the sacred attachments of kindred ; the 



$6 THE ENDLESSNESS OF CHRIST'S LOVE 

love that unites us in our precious homes to our 
other selves, to parent, to child, to brother. We 
cannot measure this love for those with whom we 
stand for weal or woe, in life or death, for those 
who have given us birth and for us would give 
themselves, for the children whose grand immor- 
talities are lodged within our influence, for those 
with whom we have grown in stature and in learn- 
ing and in the world's ways. But in the test times 
even this gives way to the unspeakable love for the 
dear Redeemer who ranks immeasurably all other 
friends. We must put him foremost. The mar- 
tyrs, dying in scourgings and in flames and in the 
loss of all things, have spoken the watchword for 
the centuries, " Christ only." And if those who 
are not now his own would come to him, in full 
acceptance of his sincere invitation, they, too, might 
be embraced in his endless love. 

But for those who are his, this truth already is 
full of blessed suggestion and assurance. Accept- 
ing, fully believing in our hearts, this divine fact of 
the endlessness of the Redeemer's love, we should 
recognize the proof of it in the joys and abound- 
ing blessings of our lives. The springs, mingled in 
the secret and subtle alchemy of nature, whose clear 
waters flow in unfailing streams for the health and 
invigoration of our bodies, are the gift of the Father 
of all to his tired and worn children. And all our 
springs of happiness are in Him who is the life of 



THE ENDLESSNESS OF CHRIST'S LOVE 57 

our souls. The world is bright because Christ is 
the light of it. He dwells with us, and so 
our homes are full of content and love. He 
walks with us, and, therefore, the way is 
pleasant. He fills our hearts with happiness, 
and so the songs that burst from them are 
songs of gladness. It is right to recognize Christ in 
all his relations to us. Our blessings do not come 
in the course of nature, in the ordering of pru- 
dence, as the gift of friends, so much as they come 
from Christ. Back of nature and prudence and 
friendship is Christ. He works in all these for his 
own. So we should not put the less foremost, but 
always the greater. The distinction between the 
Christian and the sinner has been thus expressed : 
one is grateful for the good received, the other is 
glad. One discerns Christ and his heart goes out 
in bounding gratitude to him. The other receives 
his blessings as coming in the ordinary course of 
things and his heart is full of gladness. Those 
lives of saints have been most beaming that have 
been inspired by this recognition of Christ. They 
have discerned him whom they have not seen. 
They have taken every blessing as from the out- 
stretched hand of a visible Saviour. The crowning 
sweetness of every cup of joy has been that he 
gave it. 

Embracing the truth before us in all its rich- 
ness and fullness, we should accept the -painful 



58 THE ENDLESSNESS OF CHRIST'S LOVE 

discipline of our life as given us also by his love. 
Religion does not exempt from trial. It some- 
times seems as though the best had the hardest 
earthly lot. Certainly the followers of Christ are 
in tutelage for a higher life. And this involves, 
possibly necessitates, painful discipline. Were 
this world all brightness and joyousness, they 
might lose heaven, might at least lose that place 
in heaven for which the Master qualifies his own. 
Whatever comes in this needful trial, comes from 
him who loves them unto the end. They may 
endure hardship, prolonged, wearing, nothing 
going well with them, their plans failing, their 
hopes turning into ashes and all their way being 
one of disappointment. This is extreme. But 
we have seen such saints. Very often it comes 
to pass that they suffer the loss of earthly treas- 
ure. By unforeseen calamity, as by fire or flood 
or the failure of others, the accumulations of 
years are swept away. Having lived in comfort 
or in luxury, they are reduced to poverty. Or 
sickness comes, laying them aside from service, 
taking them from the ways of business and pleas- 
ure and usefulness, and confining them to the 
four walls of a secluded room, where compara- 
tively alone they must bear the trial. Or, in still 
heavier affliction, they lose dearest friends, for 
whom they have lived, for whom they could die, 
whose being was so enwrapped with their own 



THE ENDLESSNESS OF CHRIST'S LOVE 59 

that in the loss all the fibers and textures of their 
life are torn apart. Under all this experience, 
they know that they are his own and that he 
loves them unto the end, and with this assurance 
they accept his chastening. Said one, " I love 
the rod. How gentle are the strokes I receive ! 
How severe those I deserve ! " And one of old, 
"Though he slay me, yet will I wait for him." 

The full acceptance of this truth conducts us 
readily, possibly without our cognizance, to the 
rest of faith, for which the earnest Christian soul 
seeks. Let the fact possess us in its superlative 
meaning that Christ loves us, loves us always, 
loves us to the end, and we shall take him at 
his word ; we shall ask him for blessings, as our 
children ask us, stretching forth the hand to 
receive even while we ask, expecting the answer 
while yet we call. We shall trust him at all 
times, especially in times of straitness and dark- 
ness, especially when human help fails. We shall 
trust him fully, for ourselves, for others, for the 
present, for the future as well, and so for time and 
for eternity. Such love admits this. Such love 
requires this. Christ's endless love constrains us 
to an endless assurance of faith. We shall ask 
because we believe. And we shall believe that 
we receive because we ask him. 

Finally, this truth becoming regnant in our 
hearts would make us conquerors in the last 



60 THE ENDLESSNESS OF CHRIST'S LOVE 

struggle. There is no thought that has such 
overcoming power in death as the thought of 
the love of Christ. Even to the faint-hearted, to 
those who have through their lifetime been sub- 
ject to bondage, whose pleasant pathway has 
been shadowed by the dread of the dark valley, 
there have come courage and freedom and light 
as the Saviour has graciously revealed himself to 
them in the dying hour. He is with his own 
when they need him most. His strength is for 
their weakness. He will never, never, never 
leave them. Precious in the sight of the Lord 
is the death of his saints. The last words that 
Luther ever wrote, the day before he died, were, 
" Verily I say unto you, if a man keep my say- 
ing, he shall never taste of death." And an 
hour before his death he prayed, " O my heavenly 
Father, I thank thee that thou hast revealed in 
me thy dear Son Jesus Christ, on whom I believe, 
whom I have preached and confessed, whom I 
have loved and praised." And his last words 
were, " Thou hast redeemed me, O God of truth." 
And when his dearest friend, the gentle Melanc- 
thon, followed him, the glory of heaven bright- 
ened around him and to a friend who asked him, 
" Will you have anything else ? " he joyfully 
answered, "Nothing else but heaven ! " 

A member of our church who lately died was 
asked by her husband, " Do you know who are 



THE ENDLESSNESS OF CHRIST'S LOVE 6 1 

here with you? " And her answer was, " I know 
that Jesus is here." Her eyes, dimmed to mor- 
tal sight, discerned the loving Lord. 

A frail maiden received sudden tidings that 
her betrothed had been swept by a rushing river 
beyond the stream of time. She bowed like a 
bruised reed under the blow too big for tears. 
Then she lifted her head and said, " My flesh and 
my heart faileth : but God is the strength of my 
heart and my portion for ever." 

We, my friends, shall not be long apart — they 
who have gone on before, we who linger a little 
longer — we shall all, if we are Christ's, parents, 
children, friends, gather in one delighted com- 
pany unto our glorious and beloved Saviour. 
"Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? 
. . . For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor 
life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things pres- 
ent, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, 
nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able 
to separate us from the love of God, which is in 
Christ Jesus our Lord." 



IV 
CONDITIONS OF BELIEF 

If I say truth, why do ye not believe me?" — JoJm 8 : 46. 



At Grand Avenue Church, New Haven. 



CONDITIONS OF BELIEF 



We have fallen on an era of theological dis- 
order. The old doctrines out of which sturdy 
character grew are getting roughly handled. The 
foundations on which the fathers securely builded 
are reported as weakening and likely to come to 
disintegration. Those fundamental truths even 
which have long had evangelical currency, such 
as the authority of Scripture, the vicariousness of 
atonement, the eternity of retribution, are not only 
questioned, but are rejected, as belonging to sys- 
tems that are effete. 

The progress of scientific discovery and the 
immature claims which it has developed have 
acted on theological thought to its unrest and 
have awakened a kind of rival sympathy in this 
different sphere. It would be unfortunate if, after 
the vagaries of uncertain science shall have kindly 
given way to theories which are founded on 
accepted facts, it should be discovered, that, in 
the unnecessary ferment, Christianity only had 
permanently suffered in the loss of some of its 
greatest principles. Transition periods are rela- 
5 



66 CONDITIONS OF BELIEF 

tively brief. Truth remains unchanged, whether 
affirmed or denied. We need to hold to it while 
the problems of the age are coming to lasting 
solution ; and to hold to it all the more firmly 
when anchors that had moored us are dragging. 

The disorder of faith is not merely affecting 
those who are leading along the lines of discovery, 
but it is working among the mass of followers and 
its disasters are seen in practical, every-day life. 
It is hard to hold men to the faith as it is set forth 
in the teachings of Scripture. Proofs, evidences, 
various and multiplied, on subjects vital to the 
soul, are not accepted. The plain doctrines of 
the gospel, the fearful truths of revelation are 
rejected, and statements, more satisfactory to 
unrenewed nature, more easy of belief because 
more harmonious with the feelings, are held and 
boldly professed. It is not merely that in some 
quarters there are claims of new revelations as of 
equal authority with the old Bible, pretended- rev- 
elations to those whose life and influence convict 
them as impostors ; but we have now to meet the 
rejection of Holy Scripture by those who have 
nothing to substitute for it and who glory in their 
agnosticism ; and still further we are confronted 
by those who, nominally accepting the Scripture, 
give its declarations no practical credence as they 
go about to find an easier creed and another way 
of salvation — or of perdition. 



CONDITIONS OF BELIEF 6j 

In this debauchment of faith, that we may not 
let go thoughtlessly of truths which we need, that 
there may not come such demoralization of opin- 
ion and practice as to put back in our time the 
cause for which all times and all providences have 
contributed, it may be well to consider some of 
the plain Conditions of Belief. 

i. Doctrines that plainly honor God are com- 
mended to our faith. Many religions degrade the 
divine Being. All forms of paganism make the 
god only equal to the best, or perhaps less than 
the worst, of men. " The worshiper, carried 
through the long avenues of columns and statues 
and the splendid halls of the ancient temple of the 
Egyptian Thebes, was conducted at last to a mis- 
erable termination, when in the inner shrine he 
found one of the lower animals." A worship that 
finds its finality in a brute can hardly excite our 
contempt, so much does it deserve our pity. The 
old mythologies placed in the seats of the gods 
personages who were stained with the vices and 
crimes of those who inaugurated them. Those 
who accepted their teachings worshiped men only 
who were more degraded than themselves. 

Much of the assumed science of our day would 
utterly dethrone God. It imputes the order of 
nature to impersonal force. The changes that 
have been wrought through the ages it would 
account for by a dominant and universal principle 



68 CONDITIONS OF BELIEF 

of evolution. It finds life in the material atoms. 
The wide and splendid and manifold phenomena 
lead back only to law. It sees no need and recog- 
nizes no evidence of God. So we are thrown 
back upon blank atheism. This is nothing new. 
One by one, as the natural sciences have emerged 
into the realm of thought, they have at first been 
considered as hostile to Biblical doctrine, but as 
broader reaches of the facts have been gained, the 
hostility has disappeared. 

All science needs to be builded on the broadest 
possible basis. He who runs into conclusions, as 
against a personal Creator or the Bible, before he 
is thoroughly satisfied with his own science, ac- 
knowledges his own unwisdom. Over and over 
again has the apothegm of Lord Bacon been veri- 
fied : "A little philosophy makes a man an atheist. 
A deeper study of it brings him back to God." 
The mind is the chief factor in interpretation, 
whether of Scripture or of nature. The influences 
which work upon it for evil or for good are often 
invisible and undetected, and only the result will 
show whether it was open or closed to all the 
voices of God, and to all the methods by which 
he works for the union of the soul to himself. 

Professedly Christian instructors, too, have fos- 
tered meager conceptions of God by what they 
have propounded concerning him. A God who 
does not look with aversion upon sin, while he 



CONDITIONS OF BELIEF 69 

may pity and seek to save those who commit it, is 
not a God fit for us. Teachings which represent 
him as sanctioning practices which are abhorrent 
to a rightly educated conscience can be safely 
rejected. The authority of a creed which sets 
forth God's approval of what good men would 
consider crimes, or what wise men would consider 
follies, may well be denied. Our faith is chal- 
lenged, first of all, by that which honors God. 
He must be enthroned above human imperfec- 
tions, with a character whose alpha and omega is 
holiness. A God countenancing sin, in league 
with whatever spoils human happiness on the one 
hand, or diminishes his own purity on the other 
hand, is not the being for us to worship. Here it 
is that the God of the Bible outranks the imaginary 
divinities. Philosophy stands abashed before reve- 
lation. Here One is made known to us worthy of 
our regard, our reverence, our love. The Bible 
honors God : it exalts him to a throne, brilliant, 
glorious. It never lowers the divinity to us, but 
draws us up to adore him whose character and 
whose works are altogether such as to inspire 
right sentiments in us. 

2. Truth, to demand our faith, must be an- 
nounced through credible and reputable mediums. 
It would not be consistent with the acknowl- 
edged character of God for him to employ wicked 
or contemptible agents to make known to men the 



JO CONDITIONS OF BELIEF 

great facts which are vital to their happiness and 
holiness. Any doctrine therefore which comes to 
us through such channels may well be set aside 
as lacking an essential element in the conditions 
of belief. 

We may properly demand of him who claims 
to have a new revelation a palpable, public mira- 
cle as assurance that he is sent from God. And 
the miracle must be wrought not in the presence 
of interested disciples and in the dark, but openly 
before the multitude. It must be, not a pretended 
sign, devised for effect on the uninitiated, but a 
real, benevolent work, witnessed by those who are 
capable of judging of its genuineness and intent. 
He who works it must be a good man, with an 
established character for honesty and uprightness. 
It is supposable that a man might be in league 
with the devil and that communications might be 
received from him which would be strange to those 
of us who are ignorant of his devices. 

We must, therefore, demand that revelators shall 
be worthy of such an office, men whom God 
would be likely to commission for such an impor- 
tant duty. They need not be rich men, nor those 
high in place and power, but they must be good 
men, whose character is above suspicion. The 
prophets and apostles, who were inspired by the 
Holy Spirit, were humble men for the most part, 
whose personal influence did not spring from their 



CONDITIONS OF BELIEF 7 1 

external position, but whose personal character 
challenged respect and whose words were therefore 
with power. But this principle effectually silences 
our modern revelators, the pretended promulgators 
of new faiths. In many cases they have not the 
personal qualities which command even the respect 
of men, and they are far from being such persons 
as we should naturally infer the divine Being would 
select to inform men of truth essential to their 
salvation. We object to the mediums ; we say 
that many of them are more likely to be the agents 
of the devil than of the Deity. Though there may be 
among them good men, with souls that are easily 
moved to accept of any new or wonderful thing, 
yet the foremost of them, in any fair judgment, 
are not men of God. We therefore scout their 
assumptions. If we ask for miracles, they are 
powerless to invoke the interposition of higher 
laws. Signs fail. The imposture is palpable. 
Better mediums must be procured before intelli- 
gence will recognize the authority of the modern 
setters forth of new doctrine. On this ground the 
religion of the Bible stands preeminent. They 
were holy men who were moved by the Holy Spirit. 
3. Doctrines in which all the Scriptures har- 
monize are worthy of our assent. Anything can 
be made out of detached portions of. the Bible. 
Any monstrous dogma or heresy can be fortified 
within isolated paragraphs or texts of Scripture. 



72 CONDITIONS OF BELIEF 

There is a sentence which declares, " There is no 
God." But it is essentially modified by what pre- 
cedes it. "Thefoolhath said in his heart, There 
is no God." The inability of the sinner to obey 
the commands of God can be gathered from texts 
like this: ''The mind of the flesh ... is not sub- 
ject to the law of God, neither indeed can it be." 
But we learn what kind of an inability it is when 
we read these words of Christ, " Ye will not come 
to me, that ye may have life." The fact that 
Christ died for the elect is plainly taught by some 
passages, but the doctrine of a limited atonement 
is utterly overthrown when we bring to bear upon 
it such passages as these : — " He is the propitiation 
for our sins ; and not for ours only, but also for 
the whole world;" "That by the grace of God 
he should taste death for every man." There is a 
large class of texts which speak of the future de- 
struction of the wicked, which teach that they shall 
utterly perish. Some have inferred from this 
strong language that the finally impenitent are to 
be annihilated. But another class of texts, which 
speak of the endless existence of the wicked in a 
state of consciousness, obliges us to give such mean- 
ing to the former texts that both shall harmonize. 
Such a meaning is obvious. As the life of the 
righteous is eternal well-being, so the destruction 
or death of the wicked is eternal ill-being. In that 
meaning all the Scripture harmonizes, and in no 



CONDITIONS OF BELIEF 73 

other. Awful as the truth is, hard as it may be to 
believe it, we must accept it or reject the Bible. 
If the Scriptures are authoritative with us, that 
meaning, in which their combined texts on any 
subject harmonize, must be received as the truth 
of God, or else we are afloat on a boundless sea 
of conjecture and doubt. 

4. Truth that bears against ourselves, as ac- 
countable beings, is probably commended to our 
belief. Such truth is unpalatable to the unre- 
newed or the partially sanctified nature. Men 
like to think well of themselves, and to have 
others think well of them. They do not like hard 
doctrines which humble their pride and refute 
their self-righteousness. They put their morality 
high, a great deal higher than God does. They 
enumerate their good deeds with Pharisaic con- 
tent. They look down on sinners beneath them- 
selves. Certain texts they would read out of the 
Bible. They cannot think it will go as hard with 
them as such passages would indicate. Hence 
come forms of religionism designed to make it 
easy for men to go through the world and to 
meet the issues of probation, to give substitutes 
for Biblical orthodoxy and godly repentance and 
humble faith in Christ and a holy, self-denying, 
cross-bearing life. God's terms are set aside. 
This may be according to the pleading of human 
nature, but it is not according to the gospel of 



74 CONDITIONS OF BELIEF 

Christ. The better way is to take the worst possi- 
ble view of ourselves, or rather, to look at our- 
selves just as we are, which is very much the same 
thing, and then seek deliverance. If we are sin- 
ners, we do not change that fact by calling our- 
selves saints nor by requiring others to call us so. 
If the wrath of God abides on us, we shall not 
shake it off by thanking him that we are not as 
other men are. If there are truths that bear 
hard upon us, that show us to ourselves in a bad 
light, we shall probably not go far amiss if we 
insert these truths in our creeds. The presump- 
tion is that the statements do not come up to the 
reality. The sinner, moved by the Holy Spirit to 
look at himself as he is, feels that the half has not 
been told ; his pungent convictions sometimes 
beget despair. If he gains relief, it is not by 
thinking any better of himself, but by learning 
to trust in Christ as a Saviour for the lost. A 
stupid self-conceit is not an honest judgment of 
one's self. The Biblical doctrines that humble us, 
that spoil the self-glory of our hearts, that direct 
us as lost sinners to the only way of escape, the 
blood of an atoning Saviour, are those which are 
most worthy of our acceptance, though their very 
truthfulness may repel us from them. 

5. Those truths should be embraced in our 
belief which are safe in any event. The possi- 
bilities should be considered in important de- 



CONDITIONS OF BELIEF 75 

cisions. The statesman in peace will prepare for 
war. The mariner is best off who has provided 
for storm. The business man is strong who can 
bear up under the possible failure of his securities 
In the great matters of the soul and eternity, when 
opposing doctrines are presented for credence, it 
is well to accept those which, if there is room for 
question, in any event are safe. Take, for illus- 
tration, the two leading doctrines of the future 
state of those who go out of this world in unbelief, 
— first, that the finally impenitent are to be con- 
signed to misery without end ; secondly, that all 
men, whatever their character or conduct, are to 
be at last universally saved. He who accepts the 
former of these doctrines and acts in the light of 
it, by flying to Christ as a Saviour from coming 
wrath, is safe in either event. If all are saved, he 
is saved; if some are lost, he is not among them. 
How is it with him who holds the latter and who 
has no Saviour? What if he has embraced the 
wrong doctrine? What if the future should be 
quite otherwise? What if the Bible statement of 
" torment forever and ever " should prove to be 
true? He has committed a fatal mistake. He 
has done himself infinite harm. He has before 
him a fearful harvest. This should be a primal 
condition of belief, that those doctrines should be 
embraced which are safe in any event. 

It is not a small thing what we believe. God 



y6 CONDITIONS OF BELIEF 

will hold us accountable for our beliefs and for the 
actions which flow from them. Nor is the right 
faith a difficult matter to gain, if we approach the 
evidences with the teachable disposition. 

Great, solemn truths are revealed to us. We 
are in charge of eternal verities. The science of 
God and of man, of sin which is lithographed on 
the globe, and of salvation which is written in the 
blood of Calvary, of probation and of the endur- 
ing destinies, is all brought within our cognizance. 
We have the knowledge of Christ and of his gos- 
pel, of the blessed fact which steadies the rolling 
world on its uneasy orbit, that there is salvation 
for the lost. Life and immortality are brought to 
light. We know that heaven or hell is before us. 
Facts large enough and important enough to make 
our life serious, and our work here momentous, 
are in our possession. As far as we can judge, 
they are verified facts. They have entered into 
the life and history of ages. They belong to man, 
as responsible and immortal. They are taught by 
the inspired Word. They are confirmed by human 
experience. They have been voiced in song and 
prayer, which have alternately expressed the hope 
and fear, the penitence and aspiration, of souls. 
They have not been abandoned in death. 

And what would the world be without them, 
and what would man be if he lost faith in them? 
The babblings that are profane and vain, the oppo- 



CONDITIONS OF BELIEF JJ 

sition of science falsely so called, must not rob us 
of immortal birthrights. We cannot give up these 
eternal certainties for the guesses of whatever dis- 
coverer. We cannot let go of a divine hand to 
grasp we know not what. We cannot degrade 
ourselves to brutish origin or kindredship, when 
our aspirations are beyond the skies and to the 
seats of angels. 

If the universe had a Creator, and if he 
impressed his laws upon it and is the governor of 
that which he wisely made, he challenges our un- 
doubted allegiance. If in this world of sin, sin so 
palpable that it stares in our faces even-where, 
there is a divine redemption so that every lost man 
may be saved, it were only folly and presumption 
either to ignore or reject it. We cannot accept 
charlatanry for Christianity. Xot yet can we 
throw overboard chart and compass and reckon- 
ings and commit ourselves to the turbulence of a 
sea swept by hurricanes and thundering on a coast 
white with the foam of breakers. We must have 
something to go by; something that will hold. 
What is it? Speculation? Uncertain science? 

Undoubtedly an age of skepticism and material- 
ism degrades the conditions of belief. Sacredness 
is at a discount. All things are common and 
cheap. When the soul is resolved into a breath, 
and God into a myth, there is no room for conse- 
cration and no object in effort. The blow that 



yS CONDITIONS OF BELIEF 

dethrones God dethrones man. All great things 
go down together. Life runs to commonplace. 
A new fascination comes to worldly business, and 
young and ambitious men feel it. To gain the 
world, to hold its wealth and the power which 
wealth gives, to feel that the vast systems of 
commerce and trade which vex the seas and jar 
the land are tributary to their plans, and that they 
are the moneyed kings on whose confidence 
thrones stand, on whose vote republics succeed in 
the throes of revolutionary struggle, whose power 
is greater than that of armies and navies, in whose 
counting-rooms destiny is dictated, is something 
wonderfully alluring. 

The same conditions give an equal, though dif- 
ferent fascination to the studies of nature. To 
unlock the palaces that have been closed and 
guarded for countless ages, to let light in upon 
their splendors and to stand first of all, first of a 
line of mind-kings, amidst their regal glories, to 
hear the majestic minstrelsies, the old choruses, 
that have reverberated there with no ear to listen ; 
to discover the laws, ancient as the globe, written 
by the divine finger on tables of stone laid up 
there as in arks of testimony; to detect the fine 
arts of nature, its pictures and sculptures and 
traceries and tapestries and the consummate grace 
and glory of its architecture ; to lead the way of 
exploration through rooms and galleries where no 



CONDITIONS OF BELIEF /9 

human foot has trodden before, possesses a charm 
which carries brave students through endeavor arid 
sacrifice. We admire and approbate the steady 
devotion, the unyielding faith and constancy, of 
those leaders of thought. The scientific ranks are 
crowded with noble minds which in every step of 
their progress win our love. 

But the questions of responsibility and of destiny 
are profounder than those of business and of 
science. We demand the higher estimate for that 
which affects the soul and reaches through the 
eternities. We enter a protest against the 
materialistic tendency «and against the scientific 
unbelief and against the vice of worldliness. We 
maintain the enthronement of God and the author- 
ity of Holy Scripture, and the central place in the 
world of the cross of Christ. We ask that the 
tremendous issues of the future shall not be slighted 
nor travestied nor handed over to blind and unsat- 
isfactory ignorance. We want those verities 
which have wrought on human character for the 
sturdiness and uprightness of our fathers still to be 
among the active forces of philosophy and society. 

On the high tablelands of the Andes, among 
the mountains that tower above Quito, where the 
old Indian race, driven back from the sea, driven 
out and back from their ancient seats and capitals, 
still holds its own in the free air and under the 
free skies, and within the impregnable fastnesses 



So CONDITIONS OF BELIEF 

of the eternal hills, as it is said, lies a gorgeous 
city which they have builded and maintained, 
while below and around them the overwhelming 
tide of conquest has passed. There they have 
kept their greatest ancestral inheritance. Father 
to son has transmitted the secret of the rich mines 
and no one has ever betrayed them. There the 
old architecture rises in its strange glory, and roofs 
and battlements glitter with gold and flashing 
gems. 

To us has come down a grander inheritance. 
Shall we as faithfully transmit and guard it, and 
shall our treasures of thought and love be builded 
into that city which is lightened by the glory of 
God? 



PARTICULARITY OF CHRIST'S 
MESSAGE 

"And Peter, " — Mark 16:7. 



At Bethlehem, N. H, 



PARTICULARITY OF CHRIST'S MESSAGE 



Christ has a particular message for each soul. 
It is as though he called each one by name and 
laid on him, personally, the burden of duty. 

He has a message for all the world : great man- 
kind-calls ; comprehensive world-truths ; proclama- 
tions to all the nations, and for all the ages. He 
draws the world unto himself. He was the true 
Light, which lighteth every man coming into the 
world ; and his invitations and his commands are 
for all souls. 

But beside them, he has a word, a special utter- 
ance, a significant invitation, to each person, 
adapted to that person more than to any other, 
holding a meaning for him which it would not 
exactly hold for any other. "Go, tell his disciples 
and Pete?'." 

Peter was one of Christ's earliest and most 
trusted and intimate disciples, He had been with 
the Master throughout all his public life. He was 
one of the three who had been admitted to the 
greatest intimacy and privacy with our Lord ; be- 
fore whom Jesus had been transfigured, when his 



84 PARTICULARITY OF CHRIST'S MESSAGE 

face did shine as the sun, and his garments became 
white as the light; with whom he had gone into 
the gloom and terror of Gethsemane when his soul 
was exceeding sorrowful, even unto death ; who 
had been suffered to accompany him when he 
raised from the dead the daughter of the ruler of 
the synagogue. He had been under the private 
instruction of the great Teacher, and knew his char- 
acter and his purposes. His house, on the shore 
of the lake at Capernaum, had been the rendezvous 
of the disciples, in which the miraculous power of 
the Healer had been wonderfully shown. 

He was a typical Galilaean ; with worldly ambi- 
tions, fond of change, ready to embark in new en- 
terprises, susceptible to new impressions, quick to 
draw the sword on occasion, forward to speak and 
to follow his words with corresponding actions. It 
was Peter who asked, with proud aspiration, " What 
then shall we have? We, who have left all and 
followed thee?" He kept his eye on the main 
chance, and wanted no low place in the coming 
kingdom. He had the worldly idea of the Mes- 
siahship. It was Peter who, as the night of agony 
in Gethsemane approached, courageously said, 
" Even if I must die with thee, yet will I not deny 
thee." It was Peter who, as the traitors closed 
around his Lord, quickly drew his sword and 
smote the servant of the high priest and struck off 
his car. It was Peter who followed the captors 



PARTICULARITY OF CHRIST'S MESSAGE 85 

even into the court of the high priest's palace, to 
see the end. 

And it was Peter, too, who denied his Lord, 
denied him once, and again, and the third time ; 
and swore to the falsehood. So inconsistent, con- 
tradictory, unreliable, was this strong, weak man ; 
afraid of no soldier, cringing before a maid. Yet 
he was Peter, the Rock ; so that his personal faith- 
fulness of confession became the rock on which 
the eternal Church should be builded, and against 
which the forces of hell should not prevail. It was 
Peter who confessed, " Thou art the Christ, the Son 
of the living God." It was Peter who worshiped 
him, saying, "Of a truth thou art the Son of God." 
It was Peter who answered him, " To whom shall we 
go? thou hast the words of eternal life." This man 
had the courage of his convictions. He had the 
capabilities of a grand manhood. He was fitted 
for devoted attachment. He would identify him- 
self with his Master. He would make the cause 
which he had espoused the passion of his life. He 
would consecrate himself and all that he had to 
the propagation of the kingdom, to the conquering 
sweep of the gospel and its proclamation to Gentiles 
as well as to Jews. 

Christ measured the man. He knew all men, 
and he needed not that anyone should bear wit- 
ness concerning man ; for he himself knew what 
was in man. He knew this man. He knew what 



S6 PARTICULARITY OF CHRIST'S MESSAGE 

was in him, what splendid possibilities were as yet 
undeveloped in him, what a rock he would be for 
the infant Church, with what a fearless eloquence 
he would proclaim the gospel, with what undaunted 
boldness he would face the enemies of his Lord. 

Christ might have rejected him. He had denied 
Christ. He deserved to be rejected, as many of us 
do. We have not always been true to our Master. 
But the Master loved the disciple ; he could for- 
give and forget the sin of the penitent disciple who 
wept bitterly over his folly and sin. He knew 
that in spite of this shameful denial there was stuff 
in him for a great apostle and for a fearless martyr. 

And so, after he had risen from the dead, when 
he was turning to his true friends that he might lay 
on them the burdens and responsibilities and vast 
interests of his kingdom, he instructed his mes- 
senger to say, " Go tell his disciples and Peter," 
and especially Peter. 

The after life of this great apostle proved that 
the Lord was not mistaken in him. Almost at the 
very time when these words were spoken, he was 
on his way to the vacant sepulcher, which he was 
the first to enter. He was the first of the apostles 
to whom the risen Christ appeared. With deepest 
humility and affection he three times replied to the 
three times repeated question, "■ Lovest thou me? " 

Before the haughty Jews, in the face of their 
pitiless tribunals, he proclaimed Christ as the 



PARTICULARITY OF CHRIST'S MESSAGE 8/ 

Messiah of their nation and of the world. He 
stood at the head of the apostles, and was their 
leader in the great work which was upon their 
hands. It was Peter, on the day of Pentecost, 
when Jerusalem was full of men from every nation 
under heaven, whose voice was lifted up to declare 
to the assembled people the resurrection of Jesus 
Christ from the dead and that he was both Lord 
and Christ. It was Peter who, when the multitude 
were convicted, preached the new doctrine of 
repentance and acceptance in the name of Jesus 
Christ; and on that day three thousand of his 
hearers received the word and were added to the 
disciples. 

It was Peter who wrought the first apostolic mir- 
acle : when a lame man at the door of the temple 
which is called Beautiful asked alms of the apostles 
and Peter, with undoubting confidence in the power 
of the Master, said to him : "Look on us. . . . In 
the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk." It was 
Peter who improved the occasion of that miracle on 
that day, and on the next day, boldly to preach 
the doctrine of the crucified Christ as the only one 
through whom salvation can be gained. For, he 
said, " Neither is there any other name under heaven, 
that is given among men, wherein we must be 
saved." 

So all along in the history you will see that it 
was Peter who stood in the forefront of the gospel 



88 PARTICULARITY OF CHRIST'S MESSAGE 

preachers, challenging the enemies of Christ to 
their duty and claiming that he must speak the 
things that he had seen and heard. The sick 
caught the magic of his name and lay along the 
streets on beds and couches, that as Peter came by, 
at the least his shadow might overshadow some one 
of them. 

It was Peter who was brought forth by night out 
of the prison, where the priests had caused him to 
be confined and was reported to them in the morn- 
ing as standing in the temple and teaching the 
people; and who, when he was brought before the 
council, said to them : "We must obey God rather 
than men." It was Peter who early entered upon 
evangelical tours, carrying forth the gospel into 
Samaria, to Syrophcenicia, to Lydda, Joppa, and 
Caesarea. He was the first to receive the heathen 
into the Christian Church, and by his wide mis- 
sionary journeys first gave the missionary char- 
acter to the world-embracing and world-conquer- 
ing faith. 

Christ made no mistake in respect to this man. 
I le knew that his great work needed just the 
qualities that Peter had. And he made use of 
them for the honor of the disciple and the glory of 
the Master. The world owes much to this apostle. 
He gave character to the rising and growing 
Church. He has been an example for these centu- 
ries suited to all ministers and missionaries, to all 



PARTICULARITY OF CHRIST'S MESSAGE 89 

followers of Christ. There was vast meaning in 
the message: "Go tell the disciples and Peter." 

So we come back to the truth with which we 
started of the particularity of Christ's message to 
each individual. 

We may notice, in the first place, that every 
man has his particular qualities, aptitudes, charac- 
teristics. No two men are exactly alike. No two 
leaves, blades of grass, flowers ; no two gems, 
rubies, diamonds ; no two animals ; no two faces, 
features, are precisely similar. Peter was not at all 
like John ; he could not be mistaken for James. 
You never think of him as being any one but 
Peter. The artists, in aiming to reproduce on 
canvas the apostles of Christ, give Peter an ex- 
pression, a personality, quite unlike any one of the 
others. With a massive head, a beetling brow, 
eyes in which lightning flashes, he has also a frame 
of strength, and looks like a man fitted to be the 
leader of armies. Among the strong men of the 
apostleship, he has a unique personality. 

So every man, when he is known, when his 
qualities and characteristics are subjected to anal- 
ysis, is only himself and not any one else. In a 
deep, true sense, he stands alone. 

He was made to be himself. If he goes about 
to make himself some one else, to be like some 
other man, to try to wear clothes that were made 
for a very different person, to fit himself into a 



« 



90 PARTICULARITY OF CHRIST'S MESSAGE 

place that was designed for some one a great deal 
smaller or a great deal larger than he is, he makes 
a great blunder, to speak mildly of it, and we 
might almost call it a crime. For is it not, in ef- 
fect, charging God with a mistake? Is it not, in 
effect, claiming that he ought to be, ought to have 
been made to be, another person than he is? 
Now God makes no mistakes. His molds are di- 
vine. 

Such as he made you, with the endowments 
that you have, with the qualities of mind and body 
that you possess, he has a personal message for 
you. For he knows you thoroughly. Men may 
not know you so. They may have an idea that 
they understand your make-up. But how often 
arc they deceived ! The man who knows how to 
speak the right word to another, the word that fits 
his case, is the man who has power over the other. 
A man of keen mind was examining the work of 
a schoolboy. The boy was discouraged, almost 
despairing. The man noticed one thing which the 
timid boy half hid. It was his drawing. He saw 
in that the elements of mastery; the signs of 
genius. He frankly told the boy of his power and 
stimulated his aspiration. The student came to 
him afterward privately and asked him if he meant 
it. He replied that he certainly did. He spoke 
to the boy's true self. Other men, teachers, had 
mistaken him, had not understood what was in him. 



PARTICULARITY OF CHRIST'S MESSAGE 9 1 

But here was a voice of sympathy and understand- 
ing that roused the slumbering soul, that thrilled 
on the sensibilities of a talented mind, as the hand 
of a master will draw sweetest music from a well- 
made harp. That boy became a renowned artist. 
God knows who you are, and he speaks to you 
such as you are. He knows exactly your frame- 
work, for his forming hand fashioned it. He 
knows your mental qualities, for by his breath you 
became a living soul. 

In the second place, these particular aptitudes 
and characteristics are to be taken account of in 
the discipline of life. Education is leading out 
that which is in one. True education includes 
finding out what is in one and then making the 
most of it. The higher education runs much to 
electives. The student, by the aid of his instruc- 
tors, is assumed to find out what he is fitted for ; 
then he applies himself to those studies which de- 
velop what is in him. If he is possessed of a tal- 
ent for language, he strives for success along that 
line and becomes learned in the tongues of the 
world. If he has a natural gift for philosophy, he 
does not lose the advantage of it by working 
poorly at physics. A good farmer should not be 
spoiled for the sake of making a poor lawyer. It 
indicates civic degradation when the judicial bench 
is occupied by a saloon-keeper. Statesmen are 
not raised from down-grade politicians. 



92 PARTICULARITY OF CHRIST'S MESSAGE 

All men are not made for the same end. Some 
are designed for one station, others for a different 
station. One star is made for a sun ; another for 
a planet ; another for the satellite of a planet. 
Nor are men to be wrought on by the same 
methods for the places for which they arc 
designed. They are to be developed according to 
their material. Marble is to be wrought into a 
statue by the chisel. Iron is to be wrought into a 
statue by melting and molding; wood, by the 
knife and plane. 

God would have his creations become wise, 
holy, efficient. He would have them eminent in 
his service according to their several ability. He 
does not expect Peter to be Paul. It is rarely 
that one could be a Luther. Edwards had the 
material which few men possess. Through influ- 
ence of one kind Calvin became what he was. 
Through conditions peculiar to him Wesley was 
fitted for his missions. History traces it to inci- 
dental circumstances that the founder of Metho- 
dism and the hero of Waterloo pursued such dif- 
ferent courses. But divine Providence was in it. 
The hand of the Almighty wrought on them. 

The particular qualities and aptitudes of men 
are taken account of in the discipline by which 
they arc trained and qualified for their work ; by 
which they are led to' be such as they become. 

God is a master builder. He knows what the 



PARTICULARITY OF CHRIST'S MESSAGE 93 

material is upon which he works. He knows into 
what it may be fashioned by the agencies which 
he uses for the building of immortal souls. He 
misunderstands no man. He makes no mistake 
as to inherent characteristics or as to possible 
results. So he has a particular message for 
each one. He calls every man to his place. 
He points out the path for every foot. He directs 
the personal exertion which each one needs to 
make. 

It is for every man to heed God — to put him- 
self into personal accord with his guide and 
Saviour. 

In the third place, men need particular appeal, 
personal influence, special encouragement. Peter 
was in that condition that he needed something 
special, specific, said to him and done for him. 
And the Master knew this when he said, " Tell 
the disciples and Peter!' He knew, indeed, the 
want of that apostle better than the apostle him- 
self knew it. How thoroughly, how tenderly, he 
met it ! And how successfully ! And how per- 
manent was the lesson ! Peter became another 
man ; of the same qualities, indeed, but differently 
directed and accomplishing different results. From 
that time he led the conquests of the kingdom. 

Every man has an approachable side. There is 
a joint in every man's harness through which an 
arrow can be shot. Men have their weak points 



94 PARTICULARITY IN CHRIST'S MESSAGE 

and their strong points. A strong man once 
made a study of a friend for months that he might 
learn how to gain him, and learning that, he 
brought his friend to Christ. 

On what line shall the appeal be 'made? Christ 
had one word for Nathanael, and a different one 
for Nicodemus ; one word for the woman of 
Samaria, and a different one for Mary Magdalene. 
Study the quality and the characteristics of one 
whom you would lead to the Master ; of one 
whom you would win from sin, from indulged 
habits of impenitence, and bring over to godliness 
and Christian service. 

Find out, if you can, by what influence you can 
convert a neighbor and save a soul from death. 
That which would take hold of one man would 
repulse another man. One motive is command- 
ing, another motive is futile, with a certain class of 
minds. One soul needs encouragement ; another 
needs warning. One man is influenced by that 
which appeals to his personal interests ; another 
by that which reaches to his family and his 
friends. 

God's word addresses every man. Apply that 
word with its particular appeal, persuasion, warn- 
ing, encouragement, hope, to him whom you 
would see in the kingdom. 

Remember that there is a power back of yours; 
that there is an incomprehensible influence exerted 



PARTICULARITY IN CHRIST S MESSAGE 95 

on all minds to gain them if possible ; and seek to 
act in harmony with God. God acts with immeas- 
urable wisdom, as one who is acquainted with the 
subject; and we are wise if we act with God. Get 
acquainted with the person, and so know what his 
need is, what his weak point is, what his strong 
point is, and bring your influence into coincidence 
with the divine influence. Always feel that God 
is foremost; that where he leads you can safely 
follow. His awakening spirit must be first ; your 
corresponding effort must be harmonious with 
him. Make account of the difference in minds. 

Tennyson, walking with some friends, tarried 
behind to look into a brook. When he overtook 
them, he said, "What a wonderful imagination 
God has ! " They passed the brook, seeing only 
its rippling surface ; he looked into its shallows 
and saw there the work and the wonders of 
Almightiness. 

"And Peter." You are Peter ! Christ has a 
particular message for you. Just where you are, 
just what you are, he speaks to you. It may be 
a voice of tender warning that you may hear if 
you will only listen. You have gone far enough 
on the path that you have chosen to walk in ; 
every step hereafter is full of peril. If you would 
escape the risk, would flee from danger, you will 
heed his word to you. 

It ma)' be a voice of comfort. You have suf- 



g6 PARTICULARITY OF CHRIST'S MESSAGE 

fered; you have borne heavy burdens; you have 
met great losses. He would console you, and by 
his hand of strength he would relieve you and 
make your evening of woe to be followed by a 
morning of joy, as the gloomiest night is often 
succeeded by the brightest dawn. 

It may be a voice of instruction. You do not 
know what to do, which way to turn, how to 
escape the consequences of sin. He will give you 
specific direction, so plain that "the way-faring 
men, yea fools, shall not err therein." 

You need not be lost. You may be saved. 
Warning, instruction, comfort, are freely spoken 
for you, to meet your special case. Christ, indeed, 
has a message for you as direct and specific as 
though you were the only man. He speaks, as I 
said, to all men ; he gives a mankind-call. But 
he singles you out, as though he spoke your name, 
as though his message were for you alone. 

Peter listened and obeyed. He consecrated his 
life, himself, to Christ, and he left the impress of 
his devotion and sacrifice on other lives, on the 
widening history of the Church, on the victorious 
kingdom of God. Peter followed Christ, and so 
he became the leader of many souls into the gates 
of light. The Galilean fisherman became a 
"Fisher of Men." 

Listen, my friends, as Peter listened, to the 
voice of the dear Christ. You may not hear him 



PARTICULARITY OF CHRIST'S MESSAGE 97 

in the earthquake of popular financial trouble, nor 
in the whirlwind of political agitation, but he will 
speak by a still, small voice to your very soul. 
It may be as you in solitude read his Holy Word ; 
it may be as you feel the anguish and loneliness 
of an inconsolable sorrow ; it may be as the Holy 
Spirit himself convinces you of your inexpressible 
need ; it may be in the solemn providences that 
darken your pathway. But in whatever way he 
speaks, it is as a loving Friend, as a divine 
Redeemer. 
7 



L 



VI 



VICARIOUS SUFFERING 



" Even as the Son of man came not to be ministered unto, 
but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many. 11 

Matthew 20 : 28. 



On the Dedication of the Chapel of the Christian 
Commission, at Point of Rocks, Virginia. 



VICARIOUS SUFFERING 



The experiences of these eventful times are 
giving new meaning and fresh force to old and 
familiar truths. 

Voices, tenderer and more strong than any 
whose tones break out from all the past, solemnly 
urge them upon our attention, and events of tragic 
and transcendent import are interpreting them to 
our hearts as they have heretofore been inter- 
preted to the cold and unresponsive reason. Re- 
bellion was always a black word in the language, 
and it meant more or less to those who carelessly 
pronounced it. But spoken in the lurid light of 
the flames that it has kindled over one half of our 
beloved land, amidst the agonies of a people 
struggling for their very life, with the awful memo- 
ries of its accursed work on battle-fields piled with 
the dead, and in homes made desolate forever, 
and on hearts broken by its murderous blows it 
gleams with a fearful significance, and includes in 
its contents all that is worst in earth and in hell. 

Loyalty always sounded with a sweet tone, 
whether it described an individual or a people ; 



102 VICARIOUS SUFFERING 

but illuminated by the devotion of those heroes of 
our own, who during these last years have cheer- 
fully offered their lives for their land, by the enlist- 
ment of our noble volunteers, who have sacrificed 
all dearest objects, chosen pursuits, study, home, 
parents, wife, children, for the defence of their 
country, it beams with a luster rivaled by no other 
word in all human speech, and suggests the lofty 
love of heaven ! Sublime were those last words 
of a wounded general (Robert McCook) to a 
friend, "I am done with life; yes, this ends it all. 
You and I part now, but the loss of ten thousand 
lives such as yours and mine would be nothing if 
their sacrifice would but save such a government 
as ours." 

The great central truth of Christianity, the vica- 
rious atonement of Christ, the voluntary offering 
of the Son of God for the sins of the world, for the 
salvation of sinners, stands out in bolder relief on 
the background of events which are now trans- 
piring, the offerings of precious lives, the sacrifices 
of loyal hearts, for the salvation of our beloved 
country. 

We can appreciate now, as we never could 
before, the work of the Redeemer for us. Our 
hearts warm toward him with a truer love, our 
thanks ascend to him with a more intelligent earn- 
estness, for his humiliation and his death in our 
behalf, when we see them enforced and made real 



VICARIOUS SUFFERING 103 

by the tribulations through which we are passing. 
The deaths of those who have fallen on all our 
memorable battle-fields, the patient endurance of 
the sick and wounded in hospitals, the unwearied 
devotion of mothers and sisters, which survives all 
hardships and loneliness and affliction, the pro- 
longed agonies of a whole people, among whom 
every circle has been invaded, and in all whose 
homes the voice of mourning has been heard, all 
draw us to Christ, suggest his greater endurances, 
and bow us in gratitude at his cross. " Even as 
the Son of man came not to be ministered unto, 
but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for 
many." 

Perhaps I cannot choose a better theme for our 
thought to-day than this old doctrine of vicarious 
suffering, made a living truth by the stirring his- 
tory of the present. By vicarious suffering, I 
mean that suffering which is endured for others. 
And such is a large proportion of all the woe of 
the world, not for the sufferer's sake, but in behalf 
of others. Our blessings are the result of others' 
burdens. Every pleasure has been purchased by 
another's pain. Throughout all history, in every 
age and every land, stands prominently forth this 
doctrine of substituted suffering. It flows in all 
the blood that has been shed ; it flames in every 
martyr fire ; it speaks in the dying testimony of 
confessors; it is eloquent in the speech of patriots 



104 VICARIOUS SUFFERING 

who have fallen ; it is commemorated by historic 
battle-fields ; it follows the footsteps of exiles ; it 
is written on prison walls ; it hallows the endur- 
ance of peoples struggling against iron tyrannies ; 
it makes the cross the world's most sacred emblem ; 
it consecrates Gethsemane and Calvary. 

Let me bring to your notice the causes of this 
strange and sublime phenomenon : 

I. The interlinkings of the social state require it. 
We stand not in the world apart, each man an 
entire being by himself, independent and unaf- 
fected by others' weal or woe. But we are all 
linked together — one mighty, mysterious chain of 
being, along which the electric current, communi- 
cated at one point, flashes and thrills, until the 
whole has felt the shock to which any part has 
vibrated. The first blow fell, slight, awful, stun- 
ning not those alone on whom it fell then, but all 
who came after them as well, so robbing a race of 
its glory, and laying it under the spell and curse 
of sin. 

Society is made up of parts, fitted to each other 
as the blocks of a massive structure are fitted and 
cemented together. Standing in order and strength 
all is well, but let there be a displacement of a 
single block, and there is a weakening and a crum- 
bling and a falling of the whole in one melancholy 
ruin. 

Look first at the family, the earliest and the 



VICARIOUS SUFFERING 105 

best of the social relations. There substituted suf- 
fering has its appointed place. It comes in the 
adjusting of human hearts that must beat together. 
It comes in the strange mystery of birth, in all 
the pain of the mother for her child. It comes in 
weary watchings and anxieties, as the child passes 
through successive periods of peril. It comes in 
the sickness that startles with its awful shadow, 
and its prophecy of heavier woe. It comes in the 
changes which the years bring, of hope and despair, 
of holiness and depravity, of sweet, maturing life, of 
dark, miserable being. It comes in wrestlings and 
cries of wounded hearts at the mercy-seat for way- 
ward children of the covenant, in disappointments 
worse than death, and in burdens heavier than those 
of age. God hears no sadder voices than those 
which go up from pious parents for apostate off- 
spring ; prayers, mingled with divine promises and 
heavy human woes, bursting and gushing from 
torn hearts. This is suffering of which those for 
whom it is endured know little, often, alas ! care 
nothing. 

Another endurance sometimes comes in the 
family experience ; that of the innocent child for 
those who would, but cannot, relieve it. Like a 
tender iamb, offered on the altar for the welfare of 
all the family, the beautiful, winning child sickens, 
suffers, dies. As the old Levitical code called for 
the fairest of the flock, the choicest of the herd, 



106 VICARIOUS SUFFERING 

an offering without blemish and without spot, so 
does God sometimes now call for the fairest of a 
family, that by the sorrow and the suffering they 
may be chastened for the life to come. Well is it 
when those who survive follow the Shepherd 
up the heights to which he took their treasure. 
There are flowers too sweet for our terrestrial gar- 
dens, and God transfers them to bloom under the 
heavenly skies. There are gems so pure that they 
would dazzle our mortal sight, and God takes 
them to shed their luster around his throne. The 
jewels that would be tarnished if left in our keep- 
ing are reserved in heaven for us, as crown jewels 
are kept only for the coronation of kings. Death, 
as it thins the household, brings ever this experi- 
ence of vicarious suffering. 

Beyond the family, in the community and the 
state, we find the same fact resulting from the 
same causes. There are those whose lot it is to 
bear the burdens of the majority. There are 
those who stand forth preeminent among their fel- 
low men as those who have suffered for all the 
others. Their names are luminous. Their mem- 
ory is sacred. History embalms them in immor- 
tal urns. Art, in its chiefest works, perpetuates 
their features and their forms. The world raises 
them to enduring thrones. The principles which 
arc the best, the blessings, social and political, 
which arc most prized, have not been a spontane- 



VICARIOUS SUFFERING 107 

ous growth, an easy harvest. They are the fruit 
of seed sown in tears, and enriched with the choic- 
est blood and garnered by the agony of noble men. 

Take the single, simple principle of the right of 
private judgment. For that what endurance has 
there been, what toil, what pain of body and of 
mind ! What enjoyment has been renounced, 
what sacrifices have been made, what persecutions 
have been voluntarily endured ! Reformers have 
stood up for it against authority and frowns and 
anathemas. Strong men have unsheathed the 
sword in its defence, and blood has flowed in tor- 
rents for its maintenance — a gory baptism of a 
sacred truth ! Martyrs have offered up life for it ; 
pilgrims have forsaken home and native land and 
sought new homes in strange climes for the sake 
of it. Europe rocked once in the strife for it. We 
hold it — a costly heritage — bequeathed through 
the suffering of noble forefathers. 

Take the great cause of human freedom. We 
enjoy it. Our noble Northern land blooms in the 
light of it. Its opulent cities, its magnificent im- 
provements, its schools and churches, its manufac- 
tures and its commerce, its science and art, its 
beautiful homes, its intelligent laws, and its cul- 
tured people, are its grandest memorials. But it 
cost something to secure it. In other lands, in 
ages long gone, the conflict and the suffering went 
on. Patriots sprang to its defence. Tell and 



I08 VICARIOUS SUFFERING 

Wallace and Cromwell and Hampden and other 
goodly men led the hosts who battled for it. The 
closet, the prison, the battle-field, testified for it. 
On our shores our fathers spared not themselves, 
but, by marvelous endurance, prolonged and 
against multiplied hostilities, they secured it for 
us. Not for himself did Washington enter upon 
the struggle for our independence. He might 
have been a British noble, but he spurned the 
bribe which was offered to him, choosing rather to 
suffer for his people than to enjoy personal emolu- 
ments. 

"When Freedom, on her natal day, 

Within her war- rocked cradle lay, 

An iron race around her stood, 

Baptized her infant brow in blood, 

And, through the storm which round her swept, 

Their constant ward and watching kept. 

Our fathers to their graves have gone, 
Their strife is past — their triumph won ; 
But sterner trials wait the race 
Which rises in their honored place — 
A moral warfare, with the crime 
And folly of an evil time."* 

This greater revolution, in the throes of which 
we are travailing, and whose annals will dim our 
natal struggle, as they will all other heroic strug- 
gles of great peoples for their life, both by the 



VICARIOUS SUFFERING IO9 

magnitude of the physical forces engaged and by 
the sublimity of the moral end to be attained, is 
calling for an amount of vicarious suffering which 
will make our land the altar of the world. These 
mighty armies of our noblest brothers, moving 
into the perils of protracted war, from which so 
many will be offered ; these steady, trustful hearts 
back of them, in all the homes that are lonely 
because they are away, which daily, hourly, bear 
up our sacrificing soldiery in prayer to God, and 
which are almost broken by the tidings which 
crash in upon them, these all are enduring for the 
welfare of others. For their children, for their 
native and adopted land, for the populations that 
are, in all the future, to enjoy what they have so 
dearly purchased, all these freely suffer. And 
more will do it. Other hearts will bring their 
chiefest treasures, other lives will present their 
costly devotion, so that this government shall 
stand. Such a sacrifice shall be made, so illus- 
trious and so precious that the memory of it shall 
be topmost in the history of mortal endurance, 
shall stand forever next to the divine sacrifice of 
the son of God for the redemption of the world. 
Never will we let die, never will liberty-loving 
men, in all nations, let die the memory of those 
who give themselves as a ransom for this land. 
Heroic literature, embalming their deeds in books, 
shall be read by our children. Art shall preserve 



I 10 VICARIOUS SUFFERING 

their record on canvas and in marble. A nation 
shall hold their names as its choicest treasures. 

On a gravestone in Pennsylvania a mother has 
placed this inscription for her only son, who has 
fallen in this war: "A willing sacrifice to the great 
principle of liberty." On the southern coast a 
boat-load of loyal soldiers became exposed to the 
deadly fire of the enemy, the boat having run 
aground. It was necessary that some one should 
offer himself to save them. A colored man 
stepped forward, saying, " Somebody's got to die 
to get us out of this and it may as well be • me." 
He then deliberately got out and pushed the 
boat into the stream, and fell into it pierced with 
five bullets. One of our noblest generals, Gen- 
eral James C. Rice, in his last letter to his mother 
before the fearful battle of the Wilderness, in which 
he fell, wrote: " My Dear Mother: Good-by. We 
are going again to do our duty, to bravely offer 
up our life for that of the country, and through 
God we shall do valiantly." 

With kindred devotion thousands on thousands 
have given themselves for the land they love. For 
us, for all who survive them, for all who shall come 
after them, in the golden ages that are to come as 
the fruit of their endurance, did they offer them- 
selves as vicarious sufferers. 

II. The demands of benevolence call for suffer- 
ing in behalf of others. The wants and the woes 



VICARIOUS SUFFERING I I I 

of a burdened race make their touching appeal to 
those who can be moved by them, and who can 
do something to alleviate them. 

The records of philanthropy catalogue a succes- 
sion of names of honor of those who have not 
spared themselves that they might relieve the mis- 
ery of others. Every great principle, every sub- 
lime truth, has had its martyred adherents. Every 
benevolent enterprise has been advocated at the 
cost of suffering. To lift men, guilty it may be, 
but human, out of their dark dungeons, the thou- 
sands must go down into the diseases and death 
that haunt them. It has not been without hazard 
that old wrongs have been redressed, great crimes 
been dragged to the light, ignominious institutions 
been assailed and overthrown, virtue and good ways 
been established and defended. Some must count 
not their lives dear to themselves, must give up 
the dearest privileges, must throw themselves into 
the perilous contest with their treasure and their 
blood, if others are to enjoy the blessing. Christ's 
cause in the world is a history of cheerful renun- 
ciation of all dearest things, of heroic self-denial 
and devotion and of personal suffering for others' 
welfare. His followers have walked in the painful 
footsteps of their Master, rewarded, no doubt, but 
still enduring the cross. "Even as the Son of man 
came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, 
and to give his life a ransom for many." 



I 12 VICARIOUS SUFFERING 

III. The necessity of the atonement for sin has 
led to vicarious suffering. Sublime beyond all 
other instances is that of the Son of God suffering 
and dying in the place of sinners. All other 
instances should only suggest to us this most mar- 
velous offering, should only draw us nearer to the 
cross. And if we suffer, if we take upon ourselves 
the duty that involves loss and peril and sacrifice, 
if we move forth to death in behalf of others, let us 
bear in mind the agonies of the Redeemer for us, 
and never forget that he gave his life a ransom for 
us. In his case there was a necessity for the suf- 
fering as there could be in no other case. For un- 
less he had undertaken for us there could have been 
no salvation. If we shrink from duty for our fellow 
men others may take the glory and the reward. 
One only could bear the sins of the world. Would 
God give up his beloved and only Son? Would 
the Son of God become the Son of man, go down 
into our lowliness, take up our sufferings and our 
sin, become himself a sacrifice for us? It was so. 
God gave his Son. Christ gave himself. He left 
the throne for the humble manger. He left the 
society of heaven for the society of sinners. He 
left honor for shame, praise for cursing, glory for a 
cross. We had sinned and so were lost. He 
stood in our place before the law ; he bare our sins 
in his own body on the tree; he was wounded for 
us; he died to save us. His chiefest title is 



VICARIOUS SUFFERING I I 3 

Saviour of sinners. He has done such a work for 
us that we can all be pardoned. He gave his life 
a ransom for man. His infinite life stands for all 
our forfeited finite lives. Now, if we will only 
believe, if we will only trust in him, if we will only 
consent that he shall be our Saviour, and love him 
and serve him, we may be saved. This is the gos- 
pel, the good news which we bring. We carry it 
to the camp and to the hospital ; we whisper it to 
the dying warrior on the blackened ridges of bat- 
tle and we announce it to the gathered soldiery in 
their peaceful assemblages. For this, that this 
gospel may be preached, we build and dedicate 
these tabernacles of worship amidst the camps of 
our noble armies. We love the brave men who 
stand as a wall of steel between our government 
and its enemies, and we would have them all love 
our Saviour. 

As they peril their lives for their countrymen so 
Christ gave his life a ransom for them. To that 
Saviour so worthy of your affection, soldiers of the 
republic, we invite you now. We remind you 
anew of what he has done for you. We beseech 
you to give your manly strength, your worthy af- 
fection, to this divine Redeemer. As you have no- 
bly heeded the call of the country, rallying under 
its flag, so enlist under the great Captain of our sal- 
vation, who can give you victory. As now, in our 
united prayer, we dedicate this chapel to his ser- 



114 VICARIOUS SUFFERING 

vice in worship, so in prayer dedicate yourselves 
to him, and let this double offering be presented 
to our Lord, the tabernacle and the worshipers in 
it! 

Many, my friends, are the instances during this 
war, of the power and the value of religion in the 
army and the navy. After the battle of Manassas 
a colonel stood, like a brother, by a dying ser- 
geant, and this was his testimony to his superior 
officer: "Colonel, I am glad I am going to die; 
I want to rest — the march has not been so long, 
but I am weary — I am tired — I want to halt — I 
want to be with Christ — I want to be with my 
Saviour." To his sister and his aunt, who stood by 
him he said : " Do not grieve : do not weep, for I 
am going to Christ; I am going to rest in heaven." 
'"And, colonel," he said, with a brightening face, 
" tell my comrades of the army, the brave Army 
of the Potomac, that I died bravely, died for the 
good old flag." 

After the battle of Fort Donelson a dying officer 
was asked what message he would send to" his 
friends, and his message was, "There is not a 
cloud between me and Christ." After the same 
battle a youthful soldier was seen sitting against 
a tree while his life-blood gushed away and his 
dying song was, " Nearer, my God, to thee." 

A dear brother-in-law of mine, a captain in the 
Fourteenth Connecticut, in this army, was mortally 



VICARIOUS SUFFERING I I 5 

wounded in one of the terrible battles of the Wil- 
derness. He had carried his cheerful piety through 
marches and long compaigns and hard-fought bat- 
tles, and into the prisons of Richmond ; it remained 
with him in the sufferings of his last days, comfort- 
ing the friends who gathered around him at Freder- 
icksburg, and raying out upon brother officers and 
soldiers who loved him well and honored his con- 
sistent religious character. When he was asked 
by Bishop Mcllvane if he regretted, lying there 
wounded and dying, that he had given himself to 
the cause of his country, he promptly replied : 
" No, bishop, if I had not been willing to give my 
life for my country I should never have entered 
the army." And when asked if he still trusted in 
Christ his answer was, " Living or dying my trust 
is in him alone." He spoke of heaven as a better 
country than this, and said, " Well, I shall be there 
and shall know all about it pretty soon." On the 
Sabbath morning of the day of his death he said, 
''To-day I shall get my marching orders; well, I 
am ready." In death victory was his, and he 
passed joyfully to that land of which he often spoke 
in fond anticipation, as alluring him by its grand 
realities. 

The last words of Admiral Foote, of whom it 
was said during his Mississippi expedition, " He 
prays as though God did everything and fights as 
though man did everything," were, " I thank God 



Il6 VICARIOUS SUFFERING 

for all his goodness to me, for all his loving kind- 
ness to me ; I thank him for his benefits." Re- 
nowned as was that brave naval officer, his great- 
est glory was his earnest Christian character. 

One of our first astronomers, responding to the 
call of his country when rebellion lifted itself 
against the government, became a successful 
leader of our armies. He had learned to look 
beyond the stars, whose sublime pathways he had 
traced, and devoutly to love Him who had made 
them all, and when on our malarious Southern 
coasts he was smitten with disease and saw that he 
must die, General Mitchell said, " It is a blessed 
thing to have a Christian's hope in a time like this !" 
It detracts nothing from the heroic character of 
that accomplished general who led the right wing 
of the army in Sherman's triumphant march from 
Atlanta to Savannah that he is known to be a 
devoted Christian. Daily he gathers his military 
family for worship. He bows in the meetings for 
prayer, leading the devotions of the soldiers to Him 
who alone giveth victory and peace. He kneels by 
his dying soldiers and prays for them. It is told of 
him that he entered the house where he learned a 
soldier was dying, read to him from the words of 
Christ, and prayed for him ; then he bent down 
and kissed him and said to him, " Captain G., we 
shall meet in heaven ! " 

Such facts are the most precious in the records 



VICARIOUS SUFFERING I I 7 

of war. They gild its dark cloud with somewhat 
of the glory of heaven. I point you to these, a 
few out of many, to encourage you also to seek 
the faith which was such a strength and solace to 
them. Trust Him, O soldiers of the country, who, 
to you, living or dying, can give certain victory! 



VII 



FOR MEMORIAL DAY 



"To grant unto us that we being delivered out of the 
hand of our enemies 

" Should serve him without fear, 

"In holiness and righteousness before him all our day?." 

— S. Luke, i : 74, 75. 



Memorial Discourse in Grand Avenue Church, New 
Haven. 



FOR MEMORIAL DAY 



The highest patriotic spirit prizes political peace 
and prosperity as a means of enlarged spiritual 
growth and success. The result of victorious con- 
flict in deliverance from the hand of our enemies 
should be the strengthening of holiness and right- 
eousness among the favored people. War has its 
bitter experiences, but it has its useful lessons. 
Out of its carnage should come courage ; out of 
its grime should come glory ; through its travail 
and trial should be begotten noblest traits of 
character and heroic tests of conduct. The aspira- 
tion of the true patriot should be the inspiration 
of the true priest. Politics should be united to 
religion. The life of the nation should be made 
greater and grander by the death which has 
hallowed its history. 

Once more we stand by the graves of the 
heroes. Once more, as we decorate the places 
where they sleep in silence, we hear the voices of 
their deeds and learn the lessons of their sacrificial 
lives. In the beautiful resurrection of nature their 
examples rise from out their graves, and we are 
charged to worthier ways of spending all our days. 



122 FOR MEMORIAL DAY 

It is not for the dead only that we observe the 
Memorial Anniversary. Nothing that we can do 
will affect them, for their work is nobly done and 
their record is forever closed. But in honoring 
their memory we can stimulate our fidelity ; in 
recalling their service we can set ourselves anew 
to our responsible tasks. 

Many years have passed since the tattered 
standards, borne back from successful battle, 
streamed along our streets, since the veterans, 
marching from bloody fields, passed in their last 
review before a grateful people. And those who 
are now coming into young manhood and woman- 
hood can remember nothing of those great events 
which put a million of our noblest men into the 
field and furrowed our country with uncounted 
graves. It was one of the greatest wars of the 
world, if we estimate the principles that were 
involved in it and the land for whose future its 
battles were fought. 

Our children should be reminded of the perils 
from which they have been delivered and of the 
debt they owe to the heroes who gave their 
precious lives to save the land and its liberties. 
But for the war they might have been with us 
still, contributing to the happiness of our homes 
and the welfare of our society. We can honor 
them by memorial services; we can honor them 
more by the service of worthy lives. 



FOR MEMORIAL DAY I 23 

In the first place, in these memorial days, we 
may regard the war as setting a true value to life. 
War, in its very nature, necessitates the offering of 
many lives. War is contrived to kill as many as 
possible. That battle is considered as the most 
successful in which there has been the greatest 
number of the dead. War is costly in many ways, 
but it is most costly in lives. 

Human life, therefore, is a principal element in 
all wars. What is life worth ? What value can 
we fairly put upon it? Is life worth too much to 
be given up to armies and fightings, to the risks of 
camps and battle-fields? 

Life is valuable for what it can worthily accom- 
plish. Mere living has not any real worth. Mere 
living belongs to the brute creation, and in some 
sense to the vegetable production. But human 
life is the life of responsibility and influence. It is 
the life of being fashioned in the image of God 
and possessing immortality; of being endowed 
with reason, endowed with susceptibilities and with 
the power and freedom of choice ; capable, there- 
fore, of estimating values, of looking at motives, of 
feeling happiness and also remorse, and of deter- 
mining personal character. 

Each man of the two hundred thousand who 
fell in the defence of the Union — one hundred 
thousand on the field, one hundred thousand in 
hospitals or in wasting sicknesses at home — was 



124 FOR MEMORIAL DAY 

an accountable, influential, immortal soul. He 
had but one earthly life to spend for some object. 
That is all that any one of us has ; one earthly 
life, to be used in our way, according to our 
choice, for such aim or object as we may select. 
Those who went into the war for the Union with 
intelligent appreciation of the act felt and knew 
that they offered their lives for that cause. They 
might go through safely. But they took the risk 
of early and sudden death. They knew that in 
the first great battle many would be stretched cold 
and lifeless on the contested field. They knew 
that they might be the first to fall ; that the fare- 
well which they had spoken to the dear ones at 
home might be the last ; and that they might look 
no more on the faces of mothers and sisters and 
fathers and brothers and wives and children- 
They were willing to take the risk. Their country 
called them. The land of their fathers, of their 
birth, or their adoption — the land which held in it 
many of the world's most precious hopes — was in 
peril from treason and from armed enemies. They 
sprang to its defence joyfully ; students from their 
books; men from all learned professions; mer- 
chants from their goods ; artisans and farmers ; 
sacrificing all their plans, all their hopes, all their 
old ambitions. Grand men stood in the ranks and 
filled the camps. 

I remember sleeping on the Potomac in a tent 



FOR MEMORIAL DAY I 25 

that rang with college songs and college stories 
till midnight in the blaze of a fire of Virginia 
wood. I remember preaching in a chapel on the 
Appomattox that was filled with appreciative 
scholars and professional men. You could not 
live in the armies without knowing that you were 
in the midst of first-rate men. The lives of those 
who gave themselves to the defence of the country 
were among the most valuable we had to give. 
They knew the cost and they were willing to pay 
it. Wrote one of them from the field: "It is 
hard to be a private, hard to be an officer, hard to 
march, hard to fight, hard to be out on picket in 
the rain, hard to live on short rations and be 
exposed to all sorts of weather, hard to be 
wounded, hard to think of lying down in death 
without the gentle hand of love to smooth one's 
brow ; but there is just one thing that makes all 
these things easy, and that is the spirit of Chris- 
tian patriotism." That spirit lived in the armies. 
It sustained the soldiers through hardships and 
disappointments and defeats. It gave us victory 
and a country and our heroes. 

The value of life is in its living. How are you 
living? How are you using the wonderful powers 
of your immortal soul? What is to be the record 
and the result? If you are living merely for your- 
self, for your present gratification, for the indul- 
gence of low aims ; if you are living in neglect of 



126 FOR MEMORIAL DAY 

duty and in denial of God, in carelessness for your 
soul and your immortality, you put a low value on 
life, on yourself. Your life has value in so far as 
you use it for great ends, for pure, true character, 
for union with the living Christ, for the successful 
entering on a blessed immortality. As you stand 
by the graves of the heroic dead, take a measure 
of yourselves, gauge your lives, conclude that the 
end will be what the immortality must be. 

In the second place, we may regard the war as 
enthroning principle in affairs. There are many 
downward tendencies in nations, as in individuals. 
We need severe discipline to bring us back to the 
true standard. " Before I was afflicted I went 
astray; but now I observe thy word," is the con- 
fession that follows the sorrows of many individ- 
uals. It has its counterpart in national experience. 
Perhaps there never was a time when our country 
was in greater danger than during the years that 
immediately preceded the war. A sordid spirit 
was abroad. There was a truckling to expediency 
on the part of public men. Material prosperity 
was the one desired end. The national life was 
honeycombed with greed and godlessness. Our 
foremost men bowed their necks to the yoke 
of a domineering iniquity. There was no great, 
noble principle which pervaded the popular mind 
and commanded loyalty. Those who stood for 
the right were stricken down, as. Caesar was 



FOR MEMORIAL DAY I 27 

stricken down by Brutus. The floor of the senate 
chamber was stained by the blood of its noblest 
orator. The greatest statesman of our land was 
ignobly held in moral shackles. The portents 
were for evil. It seemed as though we were to 
follow in the wake of accursed nations. Then the 
war came. It came as the thunderbolt rives the 
polluted air. It came as the hurricane sweeps 
through malarious districts. It called the long 
roll of all the people. It introduced a new motive. 
It enthroned principle in affairs. It put right 
uppermost. It gave new meaning to patriotism 
and liberty. There was something worthy to be 
fought for, even to die for. Men had lived for 
selfishness and low-running ambitions. Now they 
could die for sublime purposes. There was tonic 
in the air. There was stimulus in speech. There 
was new life for the nation. 

It was a great thing that a people, not then a 
century old in their organized independent national 
being, should be arrested on the downward grade, 
on which dead nations have slid to perdition, and 
should be set with its face toward the sun in the 
heavens ! The war saved us. It gave us a new 
atmosphere. It begot radical amendments in our 
fundamental law. It revolutionized the constitu- 
tion, and made of us a new people. I read one of 
the latest utterances of one of our Connecticut sena- 
tors, made during this current month in Congress : 



128 FOR MEMORIAL DAY 

" We say we were right. How are we ever going to 
decide? Some senator says, 4 God only knows.' 
I bow reverently and admit it, but there are cer- 
tain ways of arriving at that which must be ac- 
cepted as right among men, and the last awful and 
ereat resort is the tribunal of war. We submitted 
to that, and we obtained that which we of the 
Union call right now ; and so far as human laws 
and institutions and duties are concerned, we leave 
further judgment to the judgment day. So far as 
we, practically, are concerned, our side was and 
is right." This has the ring of the best days of 
old Connecticut. There is a Puritan throb and 
thrill in it. It is as though Sherman or Ells- 
worth spake. 

Only last w r eek I noticed the remark of a leading 
politician in respect to introducing a moral ques- 
tion into a political campaign, that the "party could 
only be fully aroused to its duty when some great 
moral issue summoned it to the polls. And an 
influential political journal on the ground says in a 
late issue : " There is no public man in Kansas 
with either the courage or temerity to take the 
field as an avowed opponent of prohibition." The 
practical tests of our times are proving that there 
has been a new recognition of moral principle in 
the land ever since the war touched with its fingers 
of fire the conscience of the nation. We have a 
higher and purer public service. The interests of 



FOR MEMORIAL DAY 1 29 

morality are influential in legislation, and the 
national conscience is sensitive. 

In the third place, we may regard the war as 
accomplishing the purpose of Providence. It is a 
great thing to have God recognized. Nations 
easily grow atheistic. Especially nations that are 
successful come to confide in their power and 
prosperity. Their material greatness looms before 
their eyes, and shuts out all else. The roar of 
their enginery drowns the thunder, and the march 
of their progress distances Providence. They 
need to be awakened. They need to be recalled 
to first truths. When Abraham Lincoln issued 
his Proclamation of Emancipation, he closed it 
with the memorable words : "Upon this 
I invoke the considerate judgment of mankind, 
and the gracious favor of Almighty God." God 
appeared then in our national life. There was 
need of him. The human power was great and 
terrible. 

But there was need of a stronger arm. The 
heavy battalions needed Omnipotence back of 
them. From that time, when the nation wheeled 
to the side of Providence, when the armies were 
reinforced by the divine purposes, victories waited 
on the Union flag. The work was immense. The 
tides of war rolled with impetuous and awful fury 
from the Mississippi to the Atlantic. Foote and 
Farragut bombarded an open highway up and 
9 



130 FOR MEMORIAL DAY 

down the Mississippi. Vicksburg fell before the 
persistency of Grant. Thomas struck the vitals of 
the Confederacy. Sherman swept a swath of des- 
olation through the heart of the rebellious states. 
The great armies of the Potomac and the James at 
last reaped the fruits of their patient service, and 
the history of the great rebellion was closed. The 
prayers that had gone up from rice swamps and 
cotton fields, borne on the plaintive and weird 
cries and songs of slaves, had come to answering. 
The faith of bold reformers, who had refused all 
compromise with hideous oppression, and had 
gone forth for weary and troubled years in self- 
denying works, was strangely rewarded. That 
overshadowing wrong, whose hideous shadow had 
rested with blight and mildew on all the land, 
and from which no human foresight could per- 
ceive relief, was finally, wonderfully obliterated, 
and the foremost peril of the nation was forever 
removed. 

The world saw the hand of God in these events. 
Thanksgivings to Him who is over all, mingled 
with the sorrows of the bereaved who sat in soli- 
tariness in every home. It was seen that the dead 
had not died in vain. The purpose of Providence 
was fulfilled. And therefore it is that in these 
beautiful days we can honor, as we recall, those 
who laid down their lives for us and for our 
children. 



FOR MEMORIAL DAY I 3 I 

Once more before the summer's radiant portal 

Springs wide to welcome us, we turn to lay 

The floral wreath of May 

Upon the grave mounds of our hero dead. 

A noble land should hold their fame immortal 

Who gave their lives to keep it as a shrine 

Inviolate and pure ; 

And made it so, secure, 

Pouring their blood as sacrificial wine. 

O hero brothers ! through the victor palms 

Do ye look earthward ? Do ye bend to greet 

The tones of human love, and find them sweet 

Rising up, broken, through transcendent psalms ? 

But, oh, beloved dead ! shall words of praise, 

Or Spring's fair blooms, suffice? 

What mean our sacred, our memorial days 

Of you whose gift of price 

To your dear land was life ? 

Nay, it is not well 
That we should rest content with words and flowers. 
Your work is done! The task that yet is ours 
Is to live nobly, striving still to make 
Righteousness rule the nation for whose sake 
Ye counted life as naught. If in the skies 
The prayers of saints for those on earth arise, 
Ask that our work may be as nobly done, 
Our land redeemed, our rest as bravely won." 



VIII 
THE UPBUILDING OF THE CHURCH 



"In whom each several building, fitly framed together, 
groweth into a holy temple in the Lord." — Ephesians 2:21. 



At Rededication of North Haven Church 



THE UPBUILDING OF THE CHURCH 



The work of the Church in the world is a great 
work. Whether we look at it as a whole, or in its 
parts, it suggests magnitude, great forces, great 
labor, great accomplishment. It was great in its 
origin ; in which the divine hand was employed. 
It has been great in its progress ; in which the 
best talent and the choicest culture have found 
field for their exercise. It will be great in its con- 
clusion ; in which varied agencies in the widest 
use and over the broadest realms will be sum- 
moned to superlative activity. 

In any given locality, as in a single parish, the 
church of that place has a great work upon its 
hands. It is a force of civilization. The Church 
is anti-barbarian. Inasmuch as human nature 
runs into barbaric moods, tends to chaos and old 
night, readily takes on habits of brutality, sensual- 
ism, vulgarness, it must be met, checked, held 
back, by humanizing, civilizing processes, other- 
wise it would degenerate into utter barbarism. 
Lawlessness and lewdness and intemperance would 



136 THE UPBUILDING OF THE CHURCH 

play havoc with the family, with government, with 
education, with all social order. 

But the Church is a force of civilization. It 
anchors the family among men. It inaugurates 
and sustains marriage. It cherishes childhood 
among the loves of home, and throws around 
youth the tender restraints of domestic affection, 
of filial reverence and gratitude. It stigmatizes 
vice, and it sustains law. Philanthropists and 
humanitarians, in their work for men, have found 
it their chief auxiliary, and have relied upon it 
more than upon any worldly, sumptuary or 
municipal agencies. A man, actuated by simply 
worldly, prejudicial, selfish motives, planting a 
town or establishing a colony, would give a lot 
and subscribe largely for a church. The opposite 
course has been tried. It was tried in a western 
community, and it was found that churchless, god- 
less society soon lost even its civilization, and 
pushed into the most unblushing and foul vice ; 
that property there was not worth holding ; that 
you could not get public spirit, nor private charity, 
nor common decency on any such basis, and that 
the attempt to plant society in that way was con- 
spicuous failure. 

The Church is also a force of education. I 
would not go so far as to claim that all good 
teachers are Christians ; although the facts on that 
point would startle you ; but I claim that all good 



THE UPBUILDING OF THE CHURCH 1 37 

Christians are teachers, and that their life and ex- 
ample and influence are uplifting on society, and 
lead out into development and activity and the 
growth of the best things in men. Stephen Girard 
tried to plant in Philadelphia a creedless college, 
andforbade the entrance of any minister of the 
gospel within its walls, and ruled out all doctrinal 
Christianity from its instructions. But its presi- 
dents and teachers have been Christian men, and a 
religious service is held on every Lord's day within 
its classic marble halls, and its students have come 
forth to be members of Christian churches. The 
Chritianity of Philadelphia has poured all around 
the stone ramparts that guard like a fortification 
the estate of the college, and embraced it with the 
principles of Christ, which are stronger than those 
of Mr. Girard. Christian schools and homes and 
literature, and the lives of Christian men and 
women have power on rising minds. They give 
thought, suggest inquiry and motives and results, 
set men forward in endeavors, stimulate progress 
and cultivation. They lay the groundwork of a 
broad and substantial education. 

The Church is also a force of conversion. The 
example of its members has power in this direc- 
tion. Their prayerful, righteous lives, their up- 
right, daily walk, the principles which they carry 
into business, into politics, into social life, into 
domestic life, are converting principles. The child 



138 THE UPBUILDING OF THE CHURCH 

is won to religion by the father or mother; the 
merchant by his brother merchant; the neighbor 
by his neighbor; the friend by friend. So the 
work of conversion goes forward. The preaching 
of the gospel is for this. It brings the most 
important truths to men, and they are influenced 
by them, and one by one they yield to them as 
they ought to yield. So congregations are saved ; 
so communities are transformed ; so the work of 
the world's salvation progresses. I do not stop 
now to speak of a thousand other influences which 
are exerted by the church in any given place. I 
throw out these three bold forms of its power as a 
civilizing, educational, conversional force, and chal- 
lenge for it regard in those respects. If it did 
nothing else it would be the foremost institution of 
society. If it did nothing else it should be perma- 
nently planted and generously sustained and suc- 
cessfully worked. It may be given to a man to do 
many other good things ; to build up a prosperous 
business which shall, support many people ; to 
beautify a city so that multitudes shall enjoy the 
products of nature and the works of art that he 
has gathered within its boundaries ; to endow a 
school or college which shall educate young men 
and women from year to year for the larger duties 
of life ; to open a hospital which shall be free to 
the sufferers in body or mind ; to donate Bibles 
and tracts and useful books for the daily reading 



THE UPBUILDING OF THE CHURCH 1 39 

and sanctification of the people ; to improve the 
drainage, or the food, or the clothing, or the com- 
merce, or the products of a region. But there is 
nothing to which he will look back with more sat- 
isfaction than to the successful planting of a useful 
Christian church. Such a church will be an 
unfailing fountain of good in the community. It 
will lift up the place in good manners and morals ; 
it will encourage the refinements of life ; it will be 
an educator, it will foster schools and stimulate 
teachers, and it will send out men and books a$d 
cultivated men and women ; it will exert a trans- 
forming power on generation after generation, and 
perpetuate a succession of Christians. It will stand 
through centuries, till the millennium ; it will stand 
through the millennium, aiding in the work which 
will bring on that period and rejoicing throughout 
those happy ages in the victories that have been 
gained. There is, therefore, no better work that a 
man can do ; no better way in which he can 
appropriate money or effort than in behalf of a 
Christian church. He may take the broadest view 
and yield himself to a sympathy with the world- 
work of churches, the work which they are carry- 
ing on for the civilizing, education, conversion of 
all nations, and he will be a broader and better 
man for it. He will feel in himself the broaden- 
ing, elevating, inspiring influence of it. Or he 
may take the narrower view of the home work, the 



140 THE UPBUILDING OF THE CHURCH 

work right around him ; and there will be enough 
in that to make him a good deal of a man if he 
will fully put himself into harmony with it. He 
will not need to go to Japan to find bright minds, 
nor to the Hottentots to find dull ones, nor to 
China to get hold of a great work, nor to India to 
find inspiration in saving men. He can have his 
hands full, and his heart full, and his brain full 
within a comfortable walk from his own step-stone, 
and there he can make his life powerful and emi- 
nently useful. The trouble is not that there is not 
work enough everywhere, but that we don't do it. 
We let things slide along; we let our neighbors 
slide along;* we let the church slide along; we let 
everything in the matter of Christian activity slide 
along; whereas we ought to concern ourselves 
with its going along and with its most successful 
progress. 

We ought not as Christians, here, to be satisfied 
with anything less than will satisfy our brothers in 
Hawaii or Constantinople : the complete elevation 
and Christianization of the community. One by 
one we should bring all these people to Christ- 
One by one we should have all these homes Chris- 
tian homes. The work on our hands is great and 
inviting and stimulating. 

For this work there is need of union. The 
membership of a church should be one. It should 
stand together and work tog-ether in this cause ; 



THE UPBUILDING OF THE CHURCH 141 

for it is its cause and the cause of its Master. One 
of the old cities of Greece was built without walls. 
It stood on the open plain, defenceless. Other 
rival cities had their strong and elaborate defences, 
in ramparts and towers and moats and gates of 
brass. When one of its great citizens was asked 
why his city was built in that unprotected manner, 
he replied, "The concord of its citizens is the de- 
fence of the city." The united hearts of its peo- 
ple were its granite walls. Their lofty love was its 
impregnable towers. Had hostile foe approached, 
every Lacedaemonian body would have stood in the 
solid array for its protection. Such a city could 
not be taken. Such a city was full of strength. 
It was all power. 

We want the Lacedaemonian spirit in the Church. 
Union, the union of love, the union of Christian 
kindness, of generous straightforwardness with one 
another, the union that will bring us into the ranks 
with the ardent quickstep of volunteers, will make 
work easy and pleasant and successful. There is 
enthusiasm in the united shout: that is the voice 
of victory. There is momentum in the movement 
of the whole body, the grand progress of the tidal 
wave which bears everything before it. There is 
strength in numbers, in the presence of the whole, 
in the feeling that there are no laggards, that we 
move together. The building that is fitly framed 
together groweth into a temple. Beams, joists, 



(42 THE UPBUILDING OF THE CHURCH 

rafters, though of various wood, grown on differ- 
ent mountainsides, cut and prepared by different 
hands, if adjusted to each other and made to fit 
by the plans of the architect, and solidly united by 
tenons and mortices, will make a firm and durable 
structure. The church may be made up of differ- 
ent individuals, — men of culture and men of 
coarseness, some with learning and some without 
it, some with the experience and ripeness of age, 
and others with the freshness and rawness of 
youth, some with ability, and others with decided 
inability ; but each one has his place, and when 
in it he is of decided value, and contributes to the 
strength and beauty and usefulness of the organ- 
ization. The broad beam, the sleeper, the slender 
joist and rafter, the little pin that holds them to- 
gether, contribute to the solidity and grace and 
durability and worth of the majestic temple. The 
union of all the parts is essential to the growth of 
the structure. 

This union must be " in Christ," " in whom each 
building, several fitly framed together, growet'h into 
a holy temple in the Lord." The chief corner-stone 
is Jesus Christ. All our work must be in him and 
upon him. We must be one in him. Our love for 
one another must be sanctified by our greater love 
for him. Our service must spring from our joy in 
him and our gratitude to him. Christ must be the 
inspiration of our song; the motive for our labor; 



THE UPBUILDING OF THE CHURCH 1 43 

the object of our prayer; the source of our happi- 
ness; the comfort of our suffering. We must be- 
gin with him and end in him. Real concord will 
come to any church through the union of all in 
Christ. The more each one is bound to the Sav- 
iour, the more will each one be bound to all the 
others. " In him " each stone and timber of the 
temple is to be fitly framed, and then it will grow 
into a holy temple. The strength of the Church 
is in its Head. Numbers cannot take the place 
of One. Wealth cannot make up for Him. Power 
cannot fill his place. Influence cannot. Young 
men are not sufficient. Learned men would not 
avail without Him. You may build on social influ- 
ence, on riches, on the culture of the few or the 
power of the many, on the multitude of the young, 
on worldly maxims, on philosophy; but the true 
architecture is of Christ. He must be the foun- 
dation-stone, and the manifold hearts of Chris- 
tians that make up the rising temple must be 
cemented in love to Him. Here is strength and 
durability and beauty as well. Christ is the true 
Lord. 

On an old Swiss coin was the device, a stalwart 
soldier leaning on a mighty sword, with the 
inscription, " Deus -providebit" The strong sol- 
dier and the tempered blade ! her sturdy sons and 
their true weapons ! not these are the real strength 
of Switzerland. Her granite mountains rise grand- 



144 THE UPBUILDING OF THE CHURCH 

\y around and her puissant soldiers can defend 
every pass. But not in these is the glory and 
strength of the republic. God will take care ! 
The strength of the hills is his. The might of the 
bold soldiery comes from Omnipotence. " A 
mighty fortress is our God." " God is the refuge 
of his saints." We build on Christ. He is our 
corner-stone. In him alone is strength and salva- 
tion. The Church is strong because its Head is 
strong. We overcome in his might. The soldier 
is well: we must have him. And the true sword 
of tempered steel : we must have that. But Deus 
-providebit. Christ is more. He is all. Without 
him all else were vain. With him all else will 
prosper. In all our work let us put him foremost. 
Let the love we bear to Christ be first. For his 
sake let us labor; for his sake win others to him. 
There is no holy temple unless he is its founda- 
tion. There is no saved world unless he is its 
Saviour. There are no burdens lifted unless the 
Burden-bearer takes them. 

"Lazarus lies unfed and fainting — Peter sinks beneath the 

wave ; 
Loving Mary lingers sadly near the Saviour's guarded grave ; 
Blind Bartimeus, by the wayside, begs his bread disconsolate ; 
P'or the moving of the waters, at the pool the suffering wait; 
In the wilderness the lepers wander, outcast, in their pain; 
Paul and Silas, in the prison, bear the fetter and the chain; 
Mary Magdalene is weeping, friendless in her sin and shame ; 
But their burdens all were lifted when the Burden-bearer 

came." 



THE UPBUILDING OF THE CHURCH 1 45 

This church in entering anew upon Christian 
work within its home field is entering upon no 
untried or novel enterprise. We know that true 
labor here yields harvest. We have a fivefold 
work : 

First, in respect to our membership. There 
are members of this church who are not with 
us, who do not even worship with us, who have 
lost their place and, I do not doubt, have lost their 
comfort and Christian joy. Let us bring the wan- 
derers back to the Lord and to us. There are 
those here who should become members with us. 
Let us show them that we are their brethren and 
give them the right hand of affectionate fellowship. 

Secondly, in respect to our children, that they 
may be all taught of God and may be gathered 
with us. 

Thirdly, in respect to the poor and the sick, 
that we may kindly administer to them in the 
Master's name and cheer them in their loneliness 
and pain. 

Fourthly, in respect to the multitude who have 
no church home, attend on no public worship, 
care not for these things nor for their souls. Let 
iis be God's missionaries to them and by the love 
that moves our brethren in China and Japan and 
Micronesia seek the salvation of these who are at 
our own doors. 

Fifthly, in respect to strangers, those who have 



146 THE UPBUILDING OF THE CHURCH 

come to this place from other places, who have 
left dear friends and beloved churches and pleas- 
ant associations and settled by our side. Let us 
make them feel that here, too, they are among 
friends who will love them, who will gladly do 
them service, who will help them on the way to 
the other shore. Let us make our pleasant places 
pleasant places for them, so that they shall not 
regret that they have cast anchor in this haven : 
so that here they shall see the Lord in his follow- 
ers and with them experience the joy of his 
presence. 

This is our fivefold work. Into it we must put 
the resolution to do it, zeal to crowd it forward, 
energy as in any business, and determination to be 
thorough in it and to actually accomplish it. 
Back of it we must put our tender, earnest, be- 
lieving prayer, sensible that not our efforts nor our 
union can avail to build up the church or to save 
souls without the help of God ; that it is not by 
human might nor power, but by the Spirit of God, 
that these services of ours can be made effective. 
Then will the blessing come, full-flooded, pouring 
from the boundless Source, and filling all our 
hearts. May God hasten it and glorify his 
name ! 

The apostle, in this figure, compares the Church 
to a temple ; its growth to the upbuilding of a 
large and costly structure. Whether this epistle 



THE UPBUILDING OF THE CHURCH 147 

is correctly inscribed to the Ephesians or not, 
those to whom he wrote were familiar with the 
architectural glories of Greece. The magnificent 
temples, whose stately and beautiful proportions 
rose high over all other works, were the pride and 
crown of the rival and regal cities in which 
flourished and bloomed in such perfect maturity 
the high art of the ancient world. 

But there was no temple like that at Ephesus. 
The glories of Athens and the splendors of Corinth 
could not equal it. It was one of the wonders of 
the world. The sun in all his course looked down 
on nothing so magnificent. Its fame filled the 
nations and men from foreign lands sought it with 
enthusiasm. It stood at the head of the harbor 
and the sheen of its white walls glistened upon the 
sea. It was built in the beautiful Ionic style whose 
graceful forms and proportions are so grateful to 
the genius of the Asiatic Greek. Its immense 
foundations were carefully laid. It was designed 
by the most accomplished architects. It was 425 
feet in length and 220 in breadth. It had 127 
columns of choicest marble and each of them was 
the gift of a king. All the Greek cities of Asia 
contributed to its erection. A rich foreign king 
gave his munificent donation. Its doors were of 
cypress wood. Its roof was of cedar. Its stair- 
case was made of the wood of a single vine from 
Cyprus. The ladies of Ephesus gave their jewelry 



148 THE UPBUILDING OF THE CHURCH 

toward its erection. The finest pictures and 
statues of the artists adorned it. It was the glory 
of Ephesus. 

Alexander offered to give the spoils of a cam- 
paign to it if only his name might be inscribed 
upon the temple, but it was not permitted. No 
name could add to its peerless glory. No wealth 
could place a human name upon its divine walls. 
It contained within its vaults gems and jewels and 
gold greater than the wealth of many kings. A 
thousand years were spent in its erection and 
adornment. 

But the apostle saw a diviner Temple. Its foun- 
dations were laid by no human hands. God was 
its Architect. It covered the world with its mag- 
nificent proportions. Its fame was to go out 
among the principalities and powers of other 
worlds. All lands were to contribute to it. 
Kings were to be its patrons and queens its bene- 
factors. The songs within it were to be in all the 
tongues of men. Prayer should ascend unceas- 
ingly from its altars. It would be the glory and 
joy of the whole earth. Above all it would be the 
habitation of God. The Divine Spirit would dwell 
within it. 

My brethren : We are the living stones of this 
temple. Within us dwells the Holy Spirit. Are 
we the fit habitation of such a guest? Do we 
cherish his presence? Do we honor him in all our 



THE UPBUILDING OF THE CHURCH 1 49 

thoughts and plans? Is our daily life pleasing to 
him ? Are our words and acts, our business, our 
ambitions, our pleasures, honorable to him? 

For the upbuilding of this temple, in our day, 
let us unweariedly labor! Our names, the hum- 
blest name among us, ma)' go upon its walls. In 
its eternal wealth we may all freely share. 



IX 



THE POWER OF THE CHURCH 



''Ye shall receive power, when the Holy Ghost is come 
upon you: and ye shall be my witnesses both in Jerusalem, 
and in all Judaea and Samaria, and unto the uttermost part of 
the earth." — Acts I : 8. 



At Quarter-Century Anniversary. 



THE POWER OE THE CHURCH 



Rival forces, in ceaseless antagonism, are strug- 
gling for the mastery of the world. In manifold 
methods and with varying fortunes, through the 
ages, under the control of divine Providence, the 
conflict proceeds. It proceeds, at one period, 
through the wrestling of opposing thought ; and 
at another period through the clash of opposing 
arms; now by the setting up of institutions which 
are to live and grow old and control the civiliza- 
tion of states ; and then through the overthrow of 
prerogative and dynasty and social order. It 
proceeds, at one era, under the leadership of a 
single imperial mind, marshaling other minds in 
obedience to its genius ; and at another era by the 
simultaneous movement of whole masses, swayed 
by a common principle and enforcing a common 
purpose ; now by revolutions that seem to receive 
their impetuosity from below; and then by regen- 
erations which are characterized by their divine 
origin, and which carry blessings, wherever they 
are effective, to mankind. Great periods in his- 



154 THE POWER OF THE CHURCH 

tory are marked by the rise and success of domi- 
nating systems, which, for the time, move the 
world ; by the life and deeds of great men whose 
conquering footsteps reverberate around the globe ; 
by the power and intensity of ideas which project 
themselves into the life, the language, the litera- 
ture, the whole rational being, of peoples. Who 
shall rule the world? What shall be supreme? 
These are the questions, not of this day only, but 
of all time. Power is what men want. To con- 
quer the world has been the supreme ambition. 
The place of power — that is the place where 
crowns are. Palaces hold it; courts surround it ; 
honors wait on it ; greatest things are tributary to 
it. Milton is the secretary of Cromwell ; the 
mightier serves the mighty ! Kings are not those 
only who mount the world's thrones. The royalest 
kingship is that of mind. The King of kings rules 
by moral power. He holds physical forces in his 
omnipotent hand, so that he who made all worlds 
could destroy all worlds; but his divinest regality 
is his lordship of minds that are free. 

Christ taught his disciples that they were in the 
world to overcome the world ; that his kingdom, 
which the\- were to advance, was a conquering 
kingdom ; and that power would be given to 
them to make it successful to the uttermost part 
of the earth. The text indicates the substance of 
their power, the source from which it was to be 



THE POWER OF THE CHURCH I 5 5 

derived, and the sphere in which it was to be 
exercised. 

In its SUBSTANCE it is whatever efficiency was 
necessary for their success. It included, in the 
apostolic era, control over natural laws and interfer- 
ence with their normal working, the mighty power 
of miracles, as though even the divine prerogatives 
were transferred to them ; but it included, also, 
the wide range of influence which belongs to all 
eras, by which man controls his fellow man, the 
power of earnest, vigorous, intelligent mind over 
all other minds in arresting attention, swaying 
affections, and even forcing the unforced will. 

In its source it is divine ; either the power of the 
Holy Ghost being directly imparted to the disci- 
ples, or giving extraordinary efficiency to their own 
capabilities by his influence upon them, so ihat it 
might be truly said that their success is not by 
might, nor by power, but by the Spirit of the Lord. 

In its SPHERE it is world-wide, encompassing the 
uttermost parts of the earth, and solving the re- 
demption of the race. It is a power wrought in 
the home field, wrought in the foreign field as well, 
both in Jerusalem, and in all Judaea, and in Sama- 
ria, and unto the uttermost part of the earth. 

My subject is : The Pozver of the Church to 
take Possession of the World. 

And I wish to make this subject practical by 
insisting that it is the duty of Christians to use this 



156 THE POWER OK THE CHURCH 

power, now. The time is upon us when the world 
should be taken for Christ. The prayer, " Thy 
kingdom come," instead of referring in a slow and 
general way to some remote millennium, whose 
golden light no magnifying glass is powerful 
enough yet to discover, should be offered with the 
expectation of its immediate answering. 

The promises, which embrace the subjection of 
all kingdoms and powers to the one Lord of all, 
should be interpreted as capable of fulfilment in 
the midst of the marvels that are now transpiring. 

We have a historical demonstration of what can 
be done in the early spread of Christianity . The 
apostles and early Christians regarded the power 
which they received as power to be used and to 
be made effective. They welcomed the bestowal 
of the Holy Spirit because his aid, his divine 
working in them, was essential to their success 
as the promulgators of the gospel. Securing this 
promised and blessed agency they entered vigor- 
ously and victoriously upon the conquest of the 
world. Never were the obstacles greater. Never 
was opposition more firmly entrenched. Judaism, 
hoary with age, defiant in its enmity, stood on the 
one hand. Heathenism, dominant and strong, and 
holding the centers of learning and power, stood 
on the other hand. Both were leagued against 
Christianity. Bigotry, philosophy, power; Jeru- 
salem, Athens, Rome; all were to be met, all were 



THE POWER OF THE CHURCH I 57 

to be mastered. The early Christians did not 
falter. With a sublime courage, with a genuine 
enthusiasm, with a peerless patience, with an 
undoubting confidence, through perils of the most 
formidable character, at the loss of all things but 
their own fidelity, they carried their cause forward. 
They carried it forward until it was the foremost 
force in the world ; until in Jerusalem it was 
greater than Judaism ; until in Athens Christ was 
greater than Plato ; until in Rome the mighty 
emperor wore above his crown a cross. They 
suffered, but the cause prospered. They endured 
martyrdom, but their principles were crowned. 
Their death gave new life to the gospel. It held 
on its conquering way and the world yielded to 
its mastery. This wonderful success of the first 
Christian ages stands out in the forefront of 
history as a demonstration of the power of the 
Church to take possession of the world ; to retake 
the world. That which was done, may again be 
done. That which was done, must again be done. 
We have the same cause ; we have the same glori- 
ous Leader ; we need only the same energizing 
Spirit, only the same grace of Christ, only the 
same indwelling and outgoing word of God ; the 
three onlys of the great historian. 

We have also the repeated demonstration of 
what can be done by the energizing -pozver of the 
Holy Spirit in the disciples. This was seen at 



158 THE POWER OF THE CHURCH 

first; it has been repeatedly seen in subsequent 
experience. Christ taught his apostles that it was 
expedient for them that he should go away, for if 
he did not depart the Comforter would not come 
to them. When the Spirit came, the apostles 
became new men. A transformation, like a new 
birth, passed upon them. They rose to a grander 
stature, and they undertook a wider work. Peter, 
in the very presence of Christ, denied him. When 
the Spirit came he was the bold champion of his 
Master everywhere. When the Spirit came, power 
came. And then these few and feeble disciples 
coped successfully with every form of opposition. 
Not only did the Spirit work in them to give them 
personal power, but he worked with the word they 
uttered to give it power wherever it went, so that 
it was indeed the word of God, quick and power- 
ful, overcoming and renewing. The pentecostal 
'seasons, when thousands yielded to the word of 
one ; the great revivals, which have come after 
great declensions, breaking up worldliness and 
indifference and formality, giving reality to- this 
life and solemn meaning to the life to come, 
awakening interest and earnestness and profound 
anxiety as to the soul and its readiness to stand 
face to face with God, clothing the word of God 
with the deepest significance, and bringing great 
multitudes to seek salvation as the one thing need- 
ful, testify to this power of the Spirit. It may be 



THE POWER OF THE CHURCH I 59 

simultaneously, everywhere put forth. We who 
labor in this land, our honored brethren in older 
lands, our sons and daughters who have gone with 
the Word to newest lands, all may feel his reviving, 
sanctifying power, may see his renewing, saving 
power, at one time, bringing multitudes to Christ, 
giving birth to nations in a day, and making the 
world's conquest complete. What we have wit- 
nessed, the marvelous events that are already 
recorded of the work of the Holy Spirit on indi- 
vidual minds, on masses of men, on communities, 
on whole peoples, predict the rapid conversion of 
the world when the time shall come for the full 
putting forth of his wonderful energy. Then the 
work shall go forward as in a geometrical ratio. 
One circle of holy influence shall widen until it 
shall sweep within the circumference of another, 
and these again shall roll within the orbits of 
others still, and so broadening and revolving they 
shall encompass the globe with their luminous 
lines. 

On this divine aid the Church can rely in its 
work of making conquest of the world. Christians 
are possessors of this gift of grace. The Holy 
Spirit is promised to them. He comes in the 
place of Christ. He comes to be the Leader of 
Christ's own. What Christ would do were he with 
us in his personal presence, the Spirit will now do 
for us. And so soon as we learn to rely on him 



160 THE POWER OF THE CHURCH 

and cooperate with him, great and marvelous re- 
sults may be expected, — nothing less than the 
possession of the world for its Lord. 

It has fallen to my lot of late to spend several 
communion Sabbaths with the church with which 
I was first connected in my native city, and to 
administer to it the sacrament of the Supper. Jt is 
a large church, of over 400 members, embracing a 
great deal of mental ability, of social and worldly 
strength, and of spiritual resource. There are 
some men in it of remarkable talent. As I was 
standing by the communion table, on the first Sab- 
bath of the year, looking over that great and intelli- 
gent body of ^Christians as they passed out of the 
beautiful church, the oldest officer of the church, 
who was standing by me, remarked: " There is 
power here." Yes; that remark was full of sug- 
gestion : power enough there to take and hold 
that city for Christ. And it belongs to those 
Christians, with their brethren of other denomina- 
tions, to do it. 

It is reported by a Methodist brother of- some 
Unitarian ministers who looked on at a recent camp- 
meeting, that they were heard to say, ''If we only 
had this power of faith, we could take the world." 
They recognized the divine mastery of a principle 
in the glowing hearts around them which should 
subdue the world. 

A great deal of important -preliminary work has 



THE POWER OF THE CHURCH \6\ 

already been accomplished toward this conquest 
and in recognition of its approach. I refer briefly 
to a few symbols of it. The churches which are 
builded for Christian worship sustain an analogous 
relation in this conquest to that which fortresses 
do to the military occupation of a country. They 
stand as the fortifications of truth, as the maga- 
zines of influence, as the citadels of power. They 
are planted on the most conspicuous and accessi- 
ble sites. They are often made very attractive 
and impressive in their size, proportions and 
adornments. Christian architecture, in the vast 
and imposing cathedrals, in the beautiful and 
homelike churches, on which hard earnings and 
regal wealth have been expended, providing ren- 
dezvous and attractive accessories of worship and 
accustoming the people to the idea of Christ's 
Lordship, has done much to prepare the way for, 
and to familiarize the mind with, the Christian con- 
quest of the world. 

So of the public, secular recognition of religion. 
The practice, in Christian states, of associating the 
ministers of religion with important events, as by 
their public prayers at the organization of impor- 
tant deliberative assemblies, at the beginning of 
great national works, of social or industrial or edu- 
cational institutions, accustoms the people to the 
recognition of God, and carries his claims to their 
attention into the daily and significant affairs of 



162 THE POWER OF THE CHURCH 

life. So is he acknowledged as Lord. A step 
further, is the world's possession by him. 

And more important is the authority given to 
the Bible. It is recognized as a sacred book. Its 
words, sounding down all the centuries, freighted 
with the joys and griefs and exultant hopes and 
victories of saints through past millenniums, vocal 
even with the thoughts of angels, and full of the 
expression of Christ himself, are accepted as the 
Word of God. The Bible is the stronghold of 
Christianity. The churches could not maintain 
themselves without it. Infidelity, spiritism, every 
antagonist system, smites at the Bible ; scoffs at 
this divine Word ; would weaken, would gladly de- 
stroy its authority. It stands, the same old Bible, 
with the memory of the dead in it ; with the warm 
loves of childhood in it ; with the woe of our trials 
reverberating in its melancholy experiences; and 
the joys of our better days ringing in its psalms 
and prophecies like chimes of musical bells above 
the lower life, stands. It is always God's Word. 
The better life of the people is in it. On it are 
sworn the oaths which make our courts of justice 
our palladiums. The magistrate has power be- 
cause the Bible is. The nation has its foundation 
on this book which is laid in the corner-stones of 
its temples and its capitals. Its words are like 
choice music which we cannot forget; its promises 
are like faces that ever beam on us in their remem- 



THE POWER OF THE CHURCH [63 

bered expression ; it is like a life within our life, 
warming and refreshing and invigorating us. 

The hold of the Bible on the popular mind is a 
most auspicious signal of the conquest of the 
world by the Church. It has prepared the way 
for all labor. It is as though the fortresses of the 
country to be gained were already carried. 

The power of the Church over the world may 
be made efficient by manifold methods. It be- 
longs to it to exercise power over -popular thought. 
The learning of the world is largely within the 
Church. Science finds its most earnest students 
among those who believe in Him who made all 
things. The wide and captivating fields of litera- 
ture are enthusiastically cultivated by those who 
reverence the revelation of God. To our great 
scholars, to our cultured penmen, and our accom- 
plished orators and our devout scientists, is com- 
mitted the task of giving the world correct ideas 
and of molding public opinion. It is for them to* 
demonstrate the true science and to advance the 
wise theory of life and to chasten the imagination. 
On all subjects which summon forth the popular 
thought they are to be leaders; on the one hand 
assailing and controverting specious and false 
notions, and on the other advocating and estab- 
lishing safe and sound theories, whether within the 
domain of this life, or related to the life unseen 
and eternal. 



164 THE POWER OF THE CHURCH 

It belongs to it also to possess an educational 
power on the rising and advancing mind. Chris- 
tians have seen the importance of this force in the 
world, and, wise in their day, they have laid the 
endowment of schools by the endowment of 
churches, and furnished books as they have fur- 
nished sermons for the training of minds that are 
advancing into influence and control. This power 
must not be lost; it must rather be nurtured and 
augmented. Not by the secularizing of our 
schools and universities are we to fulfill our mis- 
sion in our day ; rather by the more perfect Chris- 
tianizing of them. Let earnest Christian scholars 
stand at the head of them, and let the Bible be 
an undoubted authority within them. T remem- 
ber once to have heard, at the morning worship in 
Christ Church College, at Oxford, a college which 
was founded by Cardinal Wolsey, that most tender 
and sublime anthem, " 1 will arise and go unto my 
Father," subduingiy rendered by accomplished 
singers, with a grand organ accompaniment, lead- 
ins", as it would seem, truant, lost souls back to 
their Father. And \ felt that if Christ's precious 
words were day by day so sounding through those 
ancient halls of learning, where, too, the memory 
of some of Christ's most faithful witnesses ever 
lives, that Oxford, however perverted, must be 
held back, brought back, to Christ. Not the old 
universities only and old communities must be 



THE POWER OF THE CHURCH 1 65 

educated for Christ; but especially must rising 
communities and the new institutions be taught 
and held for him. 

It belongs to the Church also to retain power in 
social and national life ; in social life, making 
Christian principles dominant, and so regulating 
the morals and manners of the people ; in politi- 
cal life, holding, if nothing more, the balance of 
power in such way as to keep good men in official 
station, and to secure integrity and uprightness in 
civil affairs. Franklin, writing, at a critical era, 
from Philadelphia to his brother in Boston, spoke 
of the prayers of Christians in New England as 
" giving a vast balance in favor" of what he and 
they deemed to be the right side. These prayers 
were simultaneous with the assembling of a strong- 
land and naval force to act for the same purpose 
as the prayers. 

This power of the Church may also be efficiently 
used in direct efforts to save men. For this, in- 
deed, is the Church. Its object is to save the 
world. The work of individual Christians should 
be to secure the salvation of others, of the lost 
ones, of all the lost; like the Lord, not willing 
that any should perish, but that all should come 
to repentance. Knowing the grace of Christ, it is 
for them to carry that grace to those for whom 
he died, even as he died for them. Here, in 
fact, is the divinest power of the Church ; here is 



1 66 THE POWER OF THE CHURCH 

the work which lifts them closest to the side of 
Christ. 

Some statements have been made in respect to 
the rapidity with which the world can be taken by 
this work of conversion. It has been stated that 
in this land, where one seventh of the population 
are Christians, if each one of these should, under 
God, bring six persons to Christ during the next 
year, at the end of the year the land would be 
wholly converted. Also, that if one Christian 
should lead one soul to Christ in a year, the two, 
two more in the second year, and so on in this 
ratio, before the end of a single lifetime the whole 
world would be converted. Further, that if five 
hundred thousand should each work effectively for 
one soul yearly, and so on, in thirteen years the 
world would be saved. 

Such results as these, by the divine blessing, 
are not too much to expect. They are within the 
compass of a faithful Church. The experience of 
the faithful, earnest Church warrants their fulfil- 
ment. 

Ah, the faithful, earnest Church ! 

A distinguished politician, who was accustomed 
to carry elections, who had been the governor of 
his state and for many years her senator in con- 
gress, whose fiery, impetuous eloquence swayed 
the masses and bore down opposition, once 
chanced to attend the meeting of a Bible society. 



THE POWER OF THE CHURCH 1 67 

A deplorable account was given of Bible destitu- 
tion. The old senator heard the lifeless narrative 
and sprang to the floor, requesting to be heard. 
In bold language he charged upon the brethren 
that they were not in earnest. Said he, " In the 
great contest for the election of Harrison, we 
Whig members of Congress gave our whole 
salaries to earn- that election. We thought the 
salvation of the country depended upon it. If you 
want to carry on this work, and really mean that 
every man shall have the Bible, you must go to 
work and give every man the Bible." The assem- 
bly was electrified ; the senator was at once made 
president of the society, and it was not again re- 
ported that a single family in that county was 
without the Bible. The earnest church can save 
the world. 

In one of the old libraries of Philadelphia, I 
have read a foreign work on "The Glorious Re- 
covery by the Vaudois of their Valleys," by Henri 
Arnaud, their pastor and commander. Nearly 
two centuries ago the Duke of Savoy undertook to 
banish them from their wild valleys where they 
had long maintained their simple and faithful 
worship. They clung to their altars and their 
homes and their magnificent mountains. Four- 
teen thousand of this devoted people were thrown 
into prison. Three thousand only survived, and 
thev went out from their old abodes with broken 



l68 THE POWER OF THE CHURCH 

hearts, homeless, solitary wanderers. They took 
refuge in Switzerland and Germany ; but they 
were not at home. Their hearts were over the 
mountains, and the verdant valleys lay green in 
their longing thought. The songs of the wild tor- 
rents rang in their regretful memories, and no 
music could charm them away. The snow-clad 
summits, brilliant in golden sunlight, rose white 
and pure to their open-eyed vision. The starry 
heavens which bent and glowed and smiled above 
Lucerne and St. Martin and Perouse were reflected 
in their tearful eyes, as in the lakes that lay be- 
neath them. The swift streams that burst coldly 
from the blue glaciers rushed not more impetu- 
ously forward than did their hearts go bounding 
back. Every grave of the sweet valleys drew them, 
every home called for them, every footpath on the 
steep mountainside summoned them ; voices of 
the air and of the woods, and of the mountain 
flowers, voices of kindred, and of passionate love, 
and of true religion whispered and wailed and 
cried for their return. 

The Vaudois would go. Three times, against 
desperate odds, they made the attempt. Twice 
they were turned back in utter defeat. The third 
time they were successful. Eight hundred armed 
men, their solitary hope, crossed Lake Geneva and 
began the passage of the Alps to recover their 
lost, loved valleys. Thousands of troops and all 



THE POWER OF THE CHURCH 169 

the inhabitants of the land opposed them. Over 
the mountains, across the swift streams, through 
the valleys, in prayer, in arms, with one solemn 
purpose, with one masterful loVe, they pushed 
right on. Even' day was one of toil. Every day 
was one of battle. Sometimes their way was 
through the trackless snow. It was reddened with 
their blood. They passed over precipices where no 
foe dared to follow. Their number grew less as 
their valleys drew near. At length they entered 
them. With thanks but not with peace their feet 
stood again upon the dear soil. Hostile troops in 
overwhelming numbers were moved against them. 
Driven from one valley and then from another, 
they seized and fortified the towering Balsi, a 
mighty pinnacle of rock, and there kept up their 
tireless defence through the long -months of winter. 

When extermination seemed inevitable, they 
fled, but still kept sight, on the mountains, of their 
own valleys. Finally the offer of peace came, and 
they recovered their valleys. Libert}' of conscience 
was guaranteed. The gospel was again preached. 
These faithful witnesses for the truth were kept for 
the work of our day. 

Such faith and love and undying earnestness 
recovered the valleys of Piedmont. Such faith 
and love and holy earnestness would recover the 
world. Can we doubt it? 

To a weak faith the work seems immense, per- 



I70 THE POWER OF THE CHURCH 

haps impossible. But with our God all things arc 
possible. A few years ago I stood here, the citi- 
zen of a land cursed beyond the power of expres- 
sion by a system of human bondage, against which 
I bore earnest testimony, but for deliverance from 
which I saw no possibility. But deliverance came. 
It came in the throes and agonies of protracted 
war, protracted till we could learn well the terrible 
lesson of our crime and till blows had fallen for 
every bondman's lash, and blood of freemen had 
answered for the blood of slaves. A new nation, 
purged by fire, tried by the ordeal of battle, took 
its place in history. God gave the nation a new 
birth. In a few years was effected the reorganiza- 
tion of state and society. 

A few months ago the Papal power ruled in 
Rome, upheld by the support of an empire which 
stood at the head of the world. The prestige of 
French power was upon all the nations. In a 
fatal hour the perjured emperor, in the folly of a 
self-confidence which proved his ruin, threw 
down the gauntlet before a Protestant kingdom, 
invoking the arbitrament of battle. The land of 
Luther resented the imperial insult and rose unit- 
edly in arms. The spiked helmets of the Ger- 
man warriors crossed the Rhine and bristled in the 
gardens of the Tuileries. The armies, the power, 
the prestige of France, were overthrown ; the Ger- 
man empire, great and glorious, rose to the first 



THE POWER OF THE CHURCH \Jl 

rank among the nations. It is difficult to com- 
prehend the magnitude of this revolution. Al- 
ready Rome has passed into other hands, and the 
children of the Vaudois proclaim the gospel of the 
valleys in its churches. Already another reforma- 
tion is sweeping through Germany. A Protestant 
power stands at the head of the world. All this 
predicts great changes yet to be. All this demon- 
strates the possibility of changes which may revo- 
lutionize the world, and give the kingdom to the 
Son of God. As in a day there may be the up- 
heaval of institutions, powers, peoples, whole races 
of mankind. As in a day superstitions, idolatries, 
old religions, may be subverted and pass into for- 
getfulness. As in a day the people of the Most 
High may come to rule the world. 

Surely, what we have seen in our own time may 
take away our unbelief, and give us confidence in 
Him who rules the world in the interest of his 
truth and of his people. 

Twenty-five years ago to-day, at this very 
hour, it fell to my lot to receive ordination as the 
minister of this church. And when lately invited 
by your honored pastor to stand once more in the 
old place and to speak to you as long ago, it 
seemed fit and pleasant that I should select this 
sacred hour, so full of undying memories, so sug- 
gestive to us all. That day of ordination was a 
day of wondrous beauty : it heralded a work 



172 THE POWER OF THE CHURCH 

which went forward for more than fourteen years. 
Of the beloved ministers who took part in the in- 
teresting services, only two survive, one of whom 
is my neighbor still, in Philadelphia, and one of 
whom is your neighbor and fellow citizen. Of the 
officers and members of the church at that time, 
the majority, I suppose, are no longer here. 

Some things remain. The same skies bend over 
you with their blazing constellations. The same 
hills rise on this landscape of charming beauty. 
The same tides ebb and flow in the river and the 
sea. This Bible changes not. The same old, old 
story sounds on with its unchanging love. Christ 
is the same yesterday and to-day and forever. The 
Holy Spirit, whose work we often saw wrought 
with wondrous power, still dwells among us and 
still wins all our hearts to repentance and faith. 

But during this quarter of a century there have 
been wonderful changes. Many who were with us 
and were dear to us have exchanged this world for 
heaven, and all their experience is new. I recall 
the blessed peace of dying ones, their victory of 
faith, their delightful foresight of the glorious 
land. 

1 have referred to the change that has passed 
over our land, for the fulfilment of our liberty, in 
which you also bore a part on land and sea, and 
for which you gave your quota of heroes ; also to 
some changes in older lands. Sweeping a wider 



THE POWER OF THE CHURCH 1/3 

field, through this quarter-century, we see so much 
accomplished, so many evolutions wrought, that a 
new world stands before us. And greater marvels 
shall transpire. God's divine plans are to move on, 
and revolutions are to transform the world. In 
His work, let us, my friends, old and new, be on 
the right side, which is, in the long run, the win- 
ning side. " He always wins who sides with God." 
Let us, as faithful to the Lord, be among the fore- 
most who shall take possession of the world and 
win its crowns for Christ. 



X 
OUR FOREFATHERS 



We have heard with our ears, 

O God, our fathers have told us, 

What work thou didst in their days, in the days of old. 

Thou didst drive out the nations with thy hand, and 

plantedst them in ; 
Thou didst afflict the peoples, and didst spread them 

abroad. 
For they gat not the land in possession by their own 

sword, 
Neither did their own arm save them : 
But thy right hand, and thine arm, and the light of thy 

countenance, 
Because thou hadst a favour unto them." 

Psalms 44 : I -3 . 



New Haven and Philadelphia. 



OUR FOREFATHERS 



I am to speak to you to-day of the Forefathers 
of ' JVezv England. 

It is something to have forefathers who are 
worth)' of our commemoration, of whom we can 
speak with pride and affectionate remembrance. 
Other peoples trace back their lineage to a base 
root, to a supine and savage ancestry. Rome, 
Sparta, the ancient states, as a disguise for the 
meanness of their origin, claimed to have sprung 
from the gods, the gods having no existence save 
in fancy and in fable. The modern empires, 
France, Russia, Austria, and their rivals, have 
struggled up to their eminences from barbaric 
beginnings, and if their people were to celebrate 
the founding of their dynasties, they would look 
back into the gloom and degradation of ancient 
savage ness. 

It is our fortune, as the people of New England, 
to have as the fathers and founders of our com- 
monwealths men of condition and of character; 
men learned, religious, puissant, heroic ; men who 
could look difficulties and dangers in the face 
without flinching; men who. like seers, scanned 



178 OUR FOREFATHERS 

the future and acted in view of what was to come ; 
men who, by their courtly manners, their scholarly 
tastes, their muscular strength and their nervous 
faith, would have graced any state in its most 
polished period. One can hardly help feeling, in 
tracing the history of our beginning, in limning 
the early actors on our soil, that, with all our 
boasted progress, it would be difficult, in many 
most essential qualities, to match them by their 
successors of any generation so far. The stal- 
wart and soldierly persons of our forefathers were 
only representatives, of their sturdy and masculine 
minds. They loom forth in history with a gran- 
deur of character and a strength of achievement 
which it were hard to parallel from their posterity. 

Two hundred and thirty-nine years ago a vessel 
of one hundred and eighty tons' burden rode at 
anchor off Cape Cod. Its destination was orig- 
inally many leagues farther southward ; but by 
stress of weather, or through the ignorance or 
malice of its master, it was providentially brought 
to the white coasts of New England. On the 21st 
day of December, 1620,- a landing was made on 
Plymouth Rock, and it was decided that there the 
Puritan colonization of the continent should com- 
mence. Those words, " Mayflower," " Plymouth 
Rock," " the 21st of December," have become his- 
toric and memorable. That humble landing was 



OUR FOREFATHERS I 79 

the beginning of a people now numbered by mil- 
lions and characterized for their intelligence, free- 
dom, enterprise, learning, religion, manhood, be- 
nevolence. That date was the birthday of New 
England, whose homes and schools and churches 
and states are not only honored by its own sons, 
but are commended by strangers as well. 

Let us look back a little from this point; let us 
retrace the track of the Mayflower and land on 
the Old World from which it sailed, that we may 
see what it was that drove this white-winged 
vessel, like a shivering sea-bird in the wintry gale, 
upon the stormy capes of New England. It was 
the work that was going on in Old England that 
led to the founding of the New England. That 
sea-girt island was then swept by storms wilder 
than those that dashed the surges of the deep in 
thunder upon its rocky promontories. The refor- 
mation was undergoing a new reform. The Church 
of England was getting an investigation such as 
the Church of Rome had had. Schooled for cen- 
turies by the use of the Bible in the vernacular 
tongue and by liberty to think and act for itself, 
the British mind was ready to carry out to legiti- 
mate conclusions the principles that had been 
enunciated by the Reformers and that commended 
themselves to the sound sense of the thoughtful 
people. The lessons which Episcopacy had 
given in its withdrawal from Papacy and in its 



l8o OUR FOREFATHERS 

own separate establishment, were those which 
were put into practice by an intelligent and pow- 
erful minority of the Church of England. In 
this minority were nobles of the land, were learned 
and salaried clergymen and even bishops of the 
Church. They had discernment to see that 
the Church of England was but half reformed, 
and that the ideas which were fostered by many of 
its observances were drifting the nation back into 
the embrace of Rome. To us, the things which 
disturbed and distracted the nation may seem 
trivial. The giving the ring in marriage, the sign- 
ing of the cross in baptism, the kneeling in par- 
taking of the eucharist, the wearing of the sacer- 
dotal robes, have not the meaning and the ten- 
dency now that they had then. 

In those times they were significant emblems of 
Romish influence and authority, they were the 
links that held the Church to a false system, they 
were the small signs which pointed to great prin- 
ciples. Later in history it was a little matter 
which apparently brought on the clash of arms 
between this and the mother country, an insigni- 
ficant tax which the country could have paid 
without feeling it. But that tax stood as the sign 
of principles back of it which were vital and 
important, and for which the Revolution was 
carried through at immense expenditures. So 
when Hooper, Bishop of Gloucester, determined 



OUR FOREFATHERS I 8 I 

to refuse the Episcopate rather than to wear the 
Episcopal robes, he was not standing for a mere 
form, he was not refusing an insignificant habit 
merely. To him those robes were the badges of 
Rome, and if he had put them on he would have 
worn the livery of the mother of abominations. I 
need not illustrate this further. 

Puritanism was the assertion of freedom from 
Popery. It was the maintenance of Christianity 
against the Church. It was the return to the 
Bible from the priests, to Christ from his false 
vicar. Non-conformity was Puritanism put into 
practice. Prelates, distinguished ministers, the 
most gifted and devoted in the English Church, in 
many cases, refused to conform to the demands of 
the state upon them for the strict observance of 
ecclesiastical practices which they deemed wrong. 
They asserted their liberty. They met the 
tyranny of their rulers with the firmness of prin- 
ciple and faith. They stood for their rights as 
British men. They were Christian freemen, and 
the iron rule of Tudor or Stuart could not make 
them swerve. Ejection from high and pleasant 
places, persecution to torture and to death, per- 
petual exile from home and native land, had no 
terrors to them compared with treachery to con- 
science and to God. 

The contest went on until, in the language of 
New England's latest historian, " The law of Eng- 



1 82 • OUR FOREFATHERS 

land declared England to be uninhabitable by 
non-conformists." Separatism, the withdrawing 
from the state church and the observance of inde- 
pendent worship, followed. Worse and worse 
grew the times, more gloomy became the pros- 
pect, the alternative was persecution and death at 
home or exile abroad. Grave and intelligent men 
were planning for a foreign residence in some land 
where they could in peace enjoy their belief and 
their worship, and erect a commonwealth which 
should secure to them the privileges now denied 
in their native land. 

Then commenced the exodus of our forefathers 
from old England. It was a great thing for them 
to leave such a country. There were the strong- 
built churches and the stately cathedrals in which 
they had worshiped. There were the fair homes 
over which trailed the rose and the ivy, and the 
hedge-fenced fields lying like gardens around 
them. There were the schools and the venerable 
universities in which they had studied. There 
were the great treasures which art and commerce 
and British arms and industry had accumulated 
in the ancient kingdom. There were the graves 
of their fathers and their near kindred, of kings 
and good men and martyrs, whom they revered. 
There were the friends whom they had cherished, 
few of whom could go with them. There was the 
country they loved, whose history was dear to 



OUR FOREFATHERS I 83 

them, for which they had done battle, and for 
which they would willingly die, and which they 
would continue to call home wherever they should 
go. But they left all behind them. In small 
companies, in disguises, by artifice, through per- 
sonal daring they fled from the tyranny of the 
English Church and state to lands where they 
could worship God in freedom. Many of them 
went to Holland, which after a long and terrible 
struggle had driven the Spanish tyrants from its 
territory, and now gave the English Pilgrims a 
cordial Dutch welcome. To that land our fore- 
fathers first went. 

A congregation that had worshiped at Scrooby 
in Nottinghamshire was the honored mother of 
us all. Unwilling to bear the intolerable oppres- 
sion of the times, its members in 1607 decided to 
pass over to Holland. Against many difficulties 
they at length succeeded. There went with them 
their pastor, Richard Clifton, who had been an 
honored rector in the English Church, and their 
teacher, John Robinson, who was a man of emi- 
nent learning, virtue and wisdom, and whose 
ability as a scholar and a logician attracted much 
notice among the polemics of Holland. To their 
company belonged also William Brewster, who 
had before visited the Low Countries as an attend- 
ant of the English ambassador. The exiled flock 
was first folded at Amsterdam. That opulent city 



184 OUR FOREFATHERS 

was then a great commercial emporium. Palaces 
lined its canals, which flowed through lines of 
overshadowing trees, and on which rode ships 
laden with the wealth of a world-wide traffic. In 
its streets and thronged marts were sailors and 
merchants with the costume and language of many 
lands. 

All was new to our Puritan forefathers. They 
were strangers in a strange land, the tongue of 
whose people was foreign to them, as were also 
their manners and attire. They applied them- 
selves lustily to labor for a livelihood, and in a 
few months removed to Leyden, forty miles from 
Amsterdam. That was the city which had en- 
dured so terrible a siege in the Spanish War, when 
famine, pestilence and despair swept away its 
determined citizens. But more than a generation 
had passed since that, and 70,000 people now 
inhabited it. In quietness and with the esteem of 
the people our forefathers resided there for twelve 
years. But they were not at home. More than 
all, they felt for their children, who were drawn 
away from their pious practices by the temptations 
of the great city and the new land. For their 
sake, more than for their own, they desired an- 
other country, though it were a wilderness and the 
home of savage men. They looked longingly 
across the floods to the new world ; they thought 
that there they might be the founders of a realm 



OUR FOREFATHERS I 85 

in which the greatest blessings would be secured 
for their posterity. Religious freedom was to 
them the greatest possession, and they were will- 
ing to encounter the sea, the wilderness, the sav- 
age, any perils, that they might have it. 

At length, overcoming many obstacles, after 
man)' prayers, with the blessing of their pastor, 
who was left behind with the majority of the flock, 
they left the shores of Holland, and the white cliffs 
of England, one hundred and two souls on the 
May-flower. They did not look back, but their 
eyes, during all their long voyage, were strained 
toward the west, the land of promise, to which 
across the flood they believed their God was lead- 
ing them. 

Dwelling in these cultured cities and towns of 
ours, where our Puritan civilization has been doing 
its work for almost two centuries and a half, it is 
not easy to grasp the greatness of their adventure 
who first settled on these shores. It was in the 
midst of a New England winter when they de- 
barked. Houses were to be reared, fuel provided, 
food in some way obtained. Around them was 
the wilderness, its unknown recesses crowded with 
savages. They were to be workmen ; they were 
also to be soldiers. Women and children were to 
be provided for. Everything crowded upon them 
and there were man)' obstacles, in the season, in 
their want of supplies, in their lack of boats and 



I 86 OUR FOREFATHERS 

other necessary things. Sickness came, and almost 
one half of their number were sadly buried. At 
times nearly all of the little colony were prostrated 
so that not more than six or seven persons were 
able to wait upon the sick and bury the dead It 
seemed as though they were to be swept away. 
But there were stout hearts among them who bore 
up in the strength of the Lord. 

At length the weary winter wore away. The 
birds sang in the forests, the brooks leaped in 
their shining channels, the sunshine started the 
emerald verdure; spring gushed over New Eng- 
land and the warm light shimmered on its seas. 
The lone survivors took heart. 

Early in April, the Mayflower weighed anchor* 
shook out its furled sails to the breeze and with 
the half of its crew who had survived the winter, 
pointed its prow toward old England. Not a 
solitary emigrant returned in the vessel. Gloomy 
as the winter had been, severe as was the promise 
for the future, they stood firmly by their new set- 
tlement. It was not a rash adventure upon which 
they had come to these coasts. They were moved 
by manly and religious principle, and difficulties 
did not deter them. In their own lofty language 
they held " that all great and honorable actions 
are accompanied with great difficulties, and must 
be both enterprised and overcome with answerable 
courages." Before they were reinforced fifty-one, 



OUR FOREFATHERS I 87 

just one half of their number, were laid with 
the dead. 

Such was the first chapter in New England his- 
tory. England was great and prosperous. Peace 
and plenty dwelt in all the kingdom. No happier 
land lay beneath the sun. But there were Eng- 
lishmen, who, though they prized these material 
and social blessings, prized one thing higher. 
Liberty ! What were all other things without that? 
Too well had they studied the Bible, too well had 
they read the history of the past, too well had they 
cherished the rights of Englishmen, to accept any 
lower boon in the place of that. For sweet and 
holy liberty they would abandon all that old, 
happy, enlightened England could give them ; 
they would court the perils of the sea and the 
wilderness and the heathen. The emigration to 
New England went on. From Holland, from the 
towns of England, great numbers came over to join 
their brethren and friends. 

They were a noble class of men who engaged in 
the planting of New England. There are persons 
who decry the forefathers, who reproach the Puri- 
tans. There are those even who inherit the bless- 
ings which they procured for them who vilify the 
noble men to whom they owe the liberty which 
they have to slander them ! There are those who 
enjoy the privileges which they owe to our fathers 
who seem to take a horrid pleasure in saying 



I 88 OUR FOREFATHERS 

things derogatory of Puritanism. There are even 
sons of the Puritans, inheritors of their names and 
their institutions and their estates, who seem to 
forget their fathers and what they owe to them. I 
wish to recall to you, my hearers, and to impress 
especially upon my young friends, as we stand 
again at this anniversary of the landing of the Pil- 
grims, the nobility and virtue and heroic deeds of 
our honored forefathers. They loved England, 
but the) r loved freedom and God more. They 
prized the churches and universities and homes of 
their native land, but they prized a free conscience 
and free worship more. They might have enjoyed 
as much in England as any of those whom they 
left there, if they had been willing to conform to 
the unjust demands of the state and the church. 
All honor to them for their cheerful sacrifices 
and patient fortitude ! 

Bradford, the first governor of the Plymouth 
colony, was a man of literary taste, familiar with 
the French and Dutch, the Greek and Latin 
tongues, and taking special delight in the Hebrew 
language. Brewster, second to him, was in honor 
at home, and, in the train of the English ambas- 
sador in Holland, had himself held the keys of 
the Dutch towns that were in some respects bound 
to England. Winslow was a gentleman of fine 
qualities, who, while traveling in Holland, became 
acquainted with the eminent pastor, Robinson, and 



OUR FOREFATHERS 1 89 

attached himself to his church and its future for- 
tunes. Robinson himself was a superior scholar 
and speaker, and in Leyden, was where the uni- 
versity founded by William the Silent, in memory 
of the heroic siege and honored with the names 
upon its rolls, of such scholars as Grotius, Scaliger, 
Arminius, and Descartes he received the attention 
of learned professors and preachers. Standish, the 
bold captain, was a military man of experience and 
promotion before he came to New England, and 
was the heir of large estates at home. 

Skelton and Higginson were educated at Cam- 
bridge University and were non-conformist clergy- 
men of the Church of England. White had been 
for many years rector of Trinity Church in Dor- 
chester, and was widely esteemed. Endicott was 
a gentleman of parts and property, and there were 
associated with him, intending to follow him to 
America, nobles and men of wealth and educa- 
tion. The members of the Massachusetts com- 
pany, pledged to embark for New England, were 
men of high position and character. Winthrop, 
whose immediate ancestors were lawyers, was a 
gentleman with an income equivalent to ten thou- 
sand dollars a year now, and moved in high circles 
at home. Humphrey, well-born, learned and 
godly, and Johnson, a man of large wealth, were 
both sons-in-law of the Earl of Lincoln. Sir 
Richard Saltonstall was one of them. Dudley was 



190 OUR FOREFATHERS 

an old soldier of character who had served in for- 
eign parts. Eaton had been a minister of the 
crown to Denmark. Bradstreet, the son of a cler- 
gyman, had studied at Cambridge. Vassall was 
a wealthy West India proprietor. Hooker, Stone 
and Cotton were divines who would have adorned 
the ranks of the clergy in any land and age, 
"men," says the historian of New England, "of 
eminent capacity and sterling character, fit to be 
concerned in the founding of a state." And he 
adds, " In all its generations of worth and refine- 
ment, Boston has never seen an assembly more 
illustrious for generous qualities or manly culture, 
than when the magistrates of the young colony 
welcomed Cotton and his fellow voyagers at Win- 
throp's table." This illustrious preacher brought 
with him to our Boston the great fame which his 
talents and learning had given him as the minister 
of the ancient church of St. Botolph in Boston in 
old England. From that " superb temple," " a 
cathedral in size and beauty," he "came to preach 
the gospel within the mud walls and under the 
thatched roof of the meeting-house in a rude New 
England hamlet." 

Such was the quality of our forefathers. Their 
clergy were mainly graduates of the universities of 
Oxford and Cambridge. Their magistrates were 
men of character, rank and erudition. Their com- 
mon men were freemen with big English hearts 



OUR FOREFATHERS 191 

beating within their waistcoats. If anybody wants 
a better ancestry he shall go far to find it. With 
them came fair and noble ladies, and earnest- 
hearted and devout dames, from the English homes 
that they had adorned. One of our chroniclers 
says of Lady Arbella Johnson, that she came 
" from a paradise of plenty and pleasure, which 
she enjoyed in the family of a noble earldom, into 
a wilderness of wants." They were women who 
were worthy to be the mothers of nations. With 
no regrets did they look back to the comforts and 
enjoyments they had left, but with true hearts they 
cheered their husbands and sons in the manly 
work which they had in hand. 

We may judge of the character of our forefath- 
ers by their associates who remained in England 
to battle there for the same principles which led 
them over the seas. They belonged to the same 
class with those who not long after overturned the 
ancient monarch}' and founded the majestic com- 
monwealth. In sympathy with them was a large 
part of the ancient nobility of the kingdom. The 
landed gentry and the moneyed class were largely 
with them. When the contest in arms came on, 
such nobles as Manchester, Essex, Warwick, 
Brooke and Fairfax commanded the Puritan 
armies and fleets. Lord Say and Seal and Lord 
Brooke, after whom was named our Saybrook, 
both designed to come to New England. John 



192 OUR FOREFATHERS 

Hampden, that illustrious commoner, the grandest 
Englishman of the age, also, at one time, thought 
of emigrating to these shores. The members of 
the Massachusetts company who remained in Eng- 
land became, some of them members of parlia- 
ment. Others who were interested in New Eng- 
land became officers in the arm)- of the people 
against the crown, judges, who pronounced deci- 
sions on the trial of the king, statesmen, who 
molded the affairs of the Revolution. The first 
scholars of England were of the Puritans. Selden, 
Lightfoot, Gale and Owen were among them. 
The finest preachers were in their ranks. Colonel 
Hutchinson was an accomplished and godly rep- 
resentative of them. Many of the most learned 
lawyers were with them. Milton, splendid in per- 
sonal appearance and in mental accomplishments, 
a poet equal to Homer, a scholar learned in ancient 
and modern lore, devoted his fine faculties to the 
Puritan cause. These men, and such as these, were 
among the most accomplished, as they were among 
the most opulent and noble of Englishmen. Royal- 
ists and churchmen have attempted to disparage 
them and have heaped ridicule upon their memory. 
But royalist and churchman found more than their 
match whether they met them in the contest of 
arms or of debate. There was little ridicule at 
Marston Moor, Dunbar and Worcester, when 
the Puritan legions bore down the king's forces in 



OUR FOREFATHERS I 93 

terrible battle. It needed more than a king to 
withstand Cromwell, and there was not a royalist 
who was the peer of his Latin secretary. 

If there had not been so much to do at home, 
had not England required the presence of so many 
of her best men, had not the assertion and defence 
of freedom on English soil itself checked the emi- 
gration, thousands more of eminent and accom- 
plished men would have thronged to New Eng- 
land to lay here the foundations of a common- 
wealth grander than then existed. 

This was what our forefathers wanted. They 
wanted to set up on these shores a nation of free- 
men, to plant here a New England which, in all the 
best qualities of a state, should surpass the old. 
They, and those who sympathized with them at 
home held the sublime purpose to erect an empire 
which should fulfill their holiest and most patriotic 
longings, where their thought and worship should 
be free and God should be their only Lord. With 
tender affection they said on leaving England : 
" We esteem it our honor to call the Church of 
England, from whence we rise, our dear mother, 
and cannot part from our native country, where 
she specially resideth, without much sadness of 
heart and many tears in our eyes." 

So they came. I cannot to-day describe their 
growth, their stern battling with difficulty and 
disaster, their unconquerable purpose, and their 



.194 OUR FOREFATHERS 

triumphant progress ; how the wilderness fell be- 
fore them, and the savage fled, how agriculture 
covered the hills with its products, and commerce 
whitened the shores with its sails ; how villages 
grew to cities, and wealth accumulated ; how 
schools were planted, and steepled churches rose 
in every hamlet, and universities were opened for 
liberal culture ; how the town and the state took 
the forms of freedom ; how a Christian aristocracy 
was cherished, and how all were combined in a 
free and beautiful commonwealth. 

But if you would know what they accomplished, 
I can tell you in the language which one used to 
him, who, standing beneath the dome of St. Peter's, 
asked for the monument of its builder, " Look 
around you ! " New England is the memorial and 
monument of the forefathers. Were an impartial 
and intelligent cosmopolitan to point to that peo- 
ple among whom thrift and virtue and intelligence 
and education and religion were most largely 
diffused, would not his finger designate New 
England on the world's map? 

I am speaking to-day to descendants of these 
forefathers. In honoring them I am placing the 
crown, upon your heads. For " the glory of chil- 
dren are their fathers." 

You are reminded in viewing them of your duty. 
Cherish then and maintain the churches that they 
planted here. Flung upon the new world, they 



OUR FOREFATHERS I 95 

cast away the human ecclesiastical inventions. 
Papacy and episcopacy they left behind them. 
God's Word they brought with them. And taking 
that alone as a guide, with their own good sense, 
they founded Congregational churches like those 
of which they read in the New Testament. Christ's 
churches were sufficient for them ; churches for 
the intelligent duties of men and women in the 
worship of God. They would have no miter nor 
canon, no priest nor pope. They would call no 
man master. They would have no authority higher 
than the Bible. As freemen in the Lord, each 
one equal to another before Him who looks down 
on all men as worms of the dust, they entered 
into mutual covenant in the Church of Christ, 
promising to watch over and care for each other. 
I commend to you, then, by the example and suf- 
ferings of your fathers, these our Congregational 
churches. They are yours through what your 
fathers have endured. Stand by them with some- 
thing of their fidelity and sacrifice. Give to them 
a generous enthusiasm and affection. Let not the 
church languish, whatever else may languish. No 
organization, no business is so important and 
worthy as the church. Congregational churches and 
Republican liberties stand and flourish together. 

Cherish also their love of freedom and be ready 
to make efforts like theirs to maintain it. We 
have fallen upon times that need the example of 



196 OUR FOREFATHERS 

the forefathers. Liberty is in peril. Manhood is 
at a discount. There is danger lest we shall go 
down upon our knees before the Dragon of slavery. 
There is danger lest in seeking to hold the smaller 
good we shall lose the greater. 

Our fathers loved the union between Old and 
New England. But they would not become slaves 
to maintain it. Truth and liberty were better than 
it. The mutterings and threats of the tyrants had 
no terrors for them. They only stirred up the 
more their manhood and independence. We, in 
these times, should imitate them. Through the 
gloom and conflicts of their life in England, on the 
track of the storm- tossed Mayflower , amidst the 
hardships of the first New England winter, in the 
work of laying well the foundations of a new com- 
monwealth, we may find stimulants to a devo- 
tion to good principles, whatever may be the 
temptations to swerve from them, whoever may 
forfeit his birthright. 

And let us ever thank God that New England is 
ours. Its rigorous climate, its hardy soil, its- sea- 
dashed coasts, its tempests, its mountains, its pro- 
ductions are the nutriments of manhood. They 
tend to develop a bold and brawny race ; they 
cherish the grandest qualities of human nature. 
Work, hard work is our lot, and it is in itself a 
first-rate inheritance. Our mountain battlements 
are the fortresses of freedom. 



OUR FOREFATHERS I 97 

Shame to us, if, spurred by the daring and 
deeds of our forefathers, we degenerate into cra- 
vens and slaves ! Rather let us be as the Puritans. 
" They knew they were pilgrims and looked not 
much on those things, but lift up their eyes to the 
heavens, their dearest country, and quieted their 
spirits." 

In a more southern latitude and within the civil- 
ization of the followers of William Penn, I give 
this tribute to our forefathers. There is much that 
is admirable in the soberness and simplicity and 
unconformity to the world of the Society of the 
Friends. And that is a fine civilization which is 
planted on the shores of the Delaware and which is 
illustrated in the social life and the learning and 
the business and the eleemosynary institutions of 
the city of Philadelphia, which in many respects is 
the first city of the land. But for that which is 
noblest in manhood and most graceful in woman- 
hood, for the wisdom and energy which go forth in 
most successful achievement, for the principles 
which underlie the best construction of society, I 
turn to our own New England Puritanism, it may 
be with a filial spirit, but yet with the consciouness 
that the honest cosmopolitan would agree with me. 
I have ever held, even at personal sacrifice and 
loss, that we who go out from the home-land 
should carry our precious principles with us and 
whether we migrate to the South or follow the 



198 OUR FOREFATHERS 

broad courses of commerce and population to the 
West, which is rising with imperial grandeur to the 
control of the continent, we should be of New 
England still, our hearts beating ever in harmony 
with those who remain behind and that we all 
should hold, with sacred regard, to the institutions 
which were bequeathed to us by our noble fore- 
fathers. 



XI 



RUTH AS AN EXAMPLE TO YOUNG 
DISCIPLES 



And Ruth said, Intreat me not to leave thee, and to return 
from following after thee : for whither thou goest, I will go ; 
and where thou lodgest, I will lodge : thy people shall be my 
people, and thy God my God: where thou diest, will I die, 
and there will I be buried : the Lord do so to me, and more 
also, if aught but death part thee and me. — The Book of Ruth 
1:16, 17. 



Grand Avenue. New Haven. 



RUTH AS AN EXAMPLE TO YOUNG 
DISCIPLES 



It is told of Dr. Franklin, that, being in the com- 
pany of some noble and worldly ladies, with whom, 
as the representative of this country in its heroic 
beginnings, he was quite a favorite, he proposed 
to read to them a pleasant idyl. They gladly 
acquiesced, expecting the grave but charming- 
philosopher to beguile them by what he might 
offer. He took the Bible, which was a strange and 
unread volume to them, and read the Book of 
Ruth. They were delighted with the idyllic story 
and wondered where the doctor had discovered 
such a gem. It would be difficult 10 find in all 
literature anything of the kind more beautiful than 
this artless history, or more fruitful of lessons of 
most suggestive wisdom. 

The sweet name of Ruth has stood next to that 
of the mother of our Lord in the affectionate regard 
of his people for many centuries ; indeed, she was 
herself the mother of our Lord, as being the ances- 
tress, in that far-off age, of David and of Christ. 
She gives us a rare example of conversion to the 



202 AN EXAMPLE TO YOUNG DTSCIPLES 

true God, in an age and among a people given over 
to idolatry ; she was one of the earliest, as she was 
one of the truest, of the great multitudes brought 
into the Church from the Gentile nations, and so 
was the prophetess of the world's harvest for 
Christ; she was a figure of heroic beauty in the 
annals of God's people ; she was a singular illustra- 
tion of the methods of divine Providence in the 
world and of the care of God for his own ; while 
her simple biography sets forth the homely life and 
the manners of the days and the people with which 
her story is interwoven. 

And there are still broader lessons in this prose 
poem. We are taught that humble individuals 
are often God's chosen agents for the accomplish- 
ment of divine purposes ; that the lowliest families 
rank with the most princely on the heraldry of 
heaven ; that this life to all of us may be a life of 
marvel or calamity ; that through whatever we 
may pass, an unfaltering trust in the overruling 
Providence will bring its ample reward ; that we 
need never to despair, however dark our experi- 
ences may be, into whatever personal or domestic 
afflictions we may be plunged ; that blessed recom- 
penses are bestowed on self-denial and cross-bear- 
ing, and the noble performance of duty ; that we 
can go nowhere with God and with the people of 
God without being on the joyful journey toward 
the place of which the Lord has said, "I will give 



AN EXAMPLE TO YOUNG DISCIPLES 203 

it you;" and that so goodwill come to us, "for 
the Lord hath spoken good concerning Israel." 
But without dwelling on these wide and volumi- 
nous and instructive lessons of the sacred narra- 
tive, I wish to-day to direct your thought to Ruth, 
as an example to the young disciple. 

First, we notice that there was a great renuncia- 
tion on her part, of much that she must have 
valued, for the sake of being with God's people. 
She had been brought up in Moab. Her fair girl- 
hood had all been spent among the idolaters. 
There was her home. There were her parents, 
and her brothers and sisters and many friends. 
She was used to the worship of the god Chemosh. 
The rich and productive plains of Moab, the popu- 
lous and powerful cities of that courageous nation, 
which had descended from Lot, were familiar to 
her. Her education and all her associations were 
among that people. 

For her then to turn away from all these, that 
she might ally herself to the friends and people of 
God, involved a renunciation of everything which 
had been dear to her. She must leave home, dear- 
est kindred, early associates, the altars of her child- 
hood, priests who had instructed her in the rites 
of their dark religion, the playgrounds and the 
playmates of her beautiful girlhood, the landscapes, 
like pictures, on which her sight had reveled, and 
the skies that had alwavs bent over her with their 



204 AN EXAMPLE TO YOUNG DISCIPLES 

starry glories. It was to say a long farewell to 
her treasures of love and memory and hope. But 
she renounced them all. With tears in her dark 
eyes and a shadow on her face of beauty, and a 
gloom in her heroic soul, she turned her back for- 
ever upon her happy past, upon her old pleasures 
and her old associates, upon her early religion and 
her early home. With a pathos unsurpassed in 
human speech she said, as she turned away from 
the old and clung to the new: "Whither thou 
goest, I will go ; and where thou lodgest, I will 
lodge : thy people shall be my people, and thy 
God my God." 

So did she become an example to the young 
disciple of every age and place. It costs some- 
thing to be a Christian. Our Lord has put it 
among the foremost of his instructions to those 
who would follow him that they are to have an 
experience of renunciation. Old things are to 
pass away. All things are to become new. Love 
for him must be so strong that other things, even 
dearest friends, must be hated in the comparison. 
We must love not the world, nor the things that 
are in the world. Our love to God must be so su- 
preme that the love of the world and the love of 
friends cannot stand against it. We must be not 
conformed to this world, but must be transformed, 
so that our affections shall be set not on things on 
the earth but on heavenly things. The apostle 



AN EXAMPLE TO YOUNG DISCIPLES 20$ 

said of himself and of those who were with him in 
the Christian service, " We have renounced the 
hidden things of shame ; " we have openly de- 
clared ourselves off from the old life ; we have 
disowned it. This great principle of renunciation 
is fundamental and all-important in the creed and 
in the practice of the young disciple. If he can- 
not declare himself off from his sinful practices and 
disown his sinful associates, and leave everything 
behind him that stands in the way of his joining 
the people of God, he will not be a full and round 
Christian ; he may fail, in the end, of being a Chris- 
tian at all. 

This, I say, is fundamental and all-important. 
It is especially so in our day, when a soft and easy 
religion is in vogue, when the line of distinction 
between the world and the Church is so shadowy, 
when young Christians are liable to take up with 
pretence for reality. Let them ask themselves, 
Am I willing to renounce and disown anything, 
everything, that comes in the way of my confes- 
sion of Christ? Let them hold before- themselves 
the example of the Moabite maiden, who, in that 
far-away age and among that nation of pagans, 
turned her back upon all old things, that she might 
live and die with the people of God. We want 
Ruths in our day, — young disciples of brave and 
self-denying devotion. We have them, but we 
want more of them. We want the Church filled 



206 AN EXAMPLE TO YOUNG DTSCIPLES 

with earnest maidens and their brothers, who can- 
not be kept back from heroic consecration, who 
will go with God's people, who will say, " Thy 
people shall be my people, and thy God my God : 
where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be 
buried ; " who thus will be Christ's, living and 
dying, everywhere and wholly Christ's. 

Secondly, we notice that there was a cordial 
reception on her part of the obligations which 
belonged to the choice of the true religion. There 
was renunciation of some things, there was recep- 
tion of other things. She did not waver. She was 
in no uncertain and doubtful mood. There was no 
question in her mind where she belonged. Orpah, 
who set out with her " on the way to return unto 
the land of Judah," kissed her mother-in-law, and 
went back unto her people and unto her god. 
The old attraction was too strong. She merely 
set out, and soon went back. And so it is with 
many who appear to start for the heavenly land. 
They are serious ; they pray ; they consort with 
the people. of God for a few weeks or months, and 
then they return to their old hab'its and their old 
associates. They think they have tried religion, 
but they know nothing of it. There are many 
Orpahs. 

Naomi proposed to Ruth that she, too, should 
return, should follow her sister-in-law. But Ruth 
had chosen the good part, not hesitatingly, not 



AN EXAMPLE TO YOUNG DISCIPLES 207 

doubtfully, not in a half-hearted way ; but fully 
and cordially and with decision. "And Ruth said, 
Intreat me not to leave thee, and to return from 
following after thee : for whither thou goest, I 
will go ; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge : thy 
people shall be my people, and thy God my God : 
where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be 
buried." This was a full reception of the Hebrew 
faith and of the true God, and a cordial and glad 
union to the people of God. It was not merely a 
love for her gentle mother, Naomi. She loved 
Naomi, for there was much that was lovable in 
her. Ten years of life with her, in their home in 
Moab, had shown Ruth the sweetness of her dis- 
position not only, but the excellence of her reli- 
gion as well. Her daily reading of the Scriptures 
of her people, her daily prayers to the unseen but 
present God of her fathers, the sublime hope she 
cherished of the Consolation of Israel, the holy 
submission with which she had endured the loss of 
her husband and her sons, the calm faith with 
which she looked forward to a blessed reunion 
with them and with all the people of God in the 
glorious place of which the Lord said, "I will 
give it you," had won the heart of Ruth not only 
to herself but to her God, also. 

The piety of Naomi was the instrumentality 
which God used to save the fair maiden of Moab 
and to give her courage and determination and 



208 AN EXAMPLE TO YOUNG DISCIPLES 

grace in open and whole-souled confession of her 
faith and union to God's people. The reason why 
so many young disciples halt and hesitate and 
seem afraid to commit themselves, and stand shiv- 
ering on the brink of a confession, is that the old 
Christians are such weak and inefficient professors. 
The inconsistency and irregularity and worldliness 
of old professors intimidate and discourage young 
believers. Is that all there is of religion? they 
say. Is that the way to follow Christ? Isn't 
there any more to it than such weakness and irres- 
olution? Does Christianity permit its professors 
to neglect the church and the sacraments and the 
prayer-meeting, and to go to the theater and the 
sociable and the moral reform meeting, to aban- 
don the one Cause for the sake of some secondary 
object; to devote the best time and the freshest 
energies to the outside matter, and to give the 
dregs and remnants to Christ, or to give him the 
go-by altogether? And so the young disciple is 
perplexed and hindered and never matures. If 
you want Ruths, you must have Naomis. If you 
want young Christians who will stand forth in the 
Christian order and in the courage of earnest con- 
victions, you must have old Christians whose lives 
will square with the precepts and principles of 
Christ. You can't expect sturdy offspring from 
decayed parentage. You can't look for heroic 
faith in the disciples of a lax and unbelieving 



AN EXAMPLE TO YOUNG DISCIPLES 209 

church. Your converts will be about such as you 
are. 

Yet Ruth should be their example. If possible, 
the converts should look away from living illustra- 
tions, if they are poor illustrations, of religion, to 
those who are worth}' of imitation, even if they 
lived long ago. The brightness of their example 
illumines our path of duty. The world will never 
grow so old that the sweetness and courage and 
constancy of the dauntless Ruth shall be unworthy 
of imitation. She received God and her whole 
duty to him into her soul of souls. Her receptive 
mind took in the people of God and life with them 
and death with them ; it took in sacrifice and self- 
denial and cross-bearing and separation from 
friends and the world. God and God's people 
and their holy life and death were all in all to her. 

Thirdly, we notice that she welcomed the rich 
recompenses which rewarded and crowned her 
fidelity. On the first page of the New Testament, 
in the ancestral line of the world's foremost Man, 
the world's divine-human Redeemer, is the name of 
Ruth. Honors were hers such as few have 
achieved or received. She came, with the gentle 
Naomi, to Bethlehem, and lent something of re- 
nown to that most renowned of the world's famous 
places. From her quiet home her name and her 
fame went out through all the land of Judah, and 
all that she had done in leaving her father and her 



210 AN EXAMPLE TO YOUNG DISCIPLES 

mother and the land of her nativity, and coming 
to a strange people and accepting the true God, 
under whose wings she had come to take refuge, 
was told among Hebrew maidens and men, in her 
praise. She became the wife of one of the fore- 
most Hebrews. She stood high among the matrons 
of Israel and had all that wealth and station could 
give her. She was the mother of a son who be- 
came the ancestor of Christ. That greatest honor 
of Hebrew motherhood, for which the mothers of 
Israel longed and prayed, that theirs might be the 
parentage of Him in whom their own people and 
all the nations of the earth were to be blessed, was 
the crowning glory of Ruth. Her faith, which God 
gave her for his service, her noble resolve, by 
which she cast away all her paganism and threw 
herself with all the wealth of her affection and the 
devotion of her life into the love of God and into 
union with his people, the sacrifice by which she 
rent herself from her dearest friends and bound 
herself to strangers who were of God's family, had 
the grandest recompense. The sweet name of 
Ruth is in honor in all the world, it is in glory in 
the heavenly world. She took God for her God 
with all her heart. She took God's people for her 
people with a daughter's loving trust. With them 
she would live, with them she would die. She 
honored God, and God, according to his word, 
honored her. 



AN EXAMPLE TO YOUNG DISCIPLES 211 

There is a recompense of reward, and all may 
have it who choose God fully and serve him faith- 
fully. But we cannot halt nor waver nor refuse to 
fulfil any one of the commandments which he lays 
upon us. 

Ruth left all, but she gained all. To her was 
fulfilled the remarkable sayings of her Son and her 
Lord: "There is no man that hath left house, or 
brethren, or sisters, or mother, or father, or children, 
or lands, for my sake, and for the gospel's sake, 
but he shall receive a hundredfold now in this 
time, . . . with persecutions ; and in the world to 
come eternal life." 

" Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I 
be buried." Only death should separate them. 
We love God's people in life ; we would be buried 
with them when we die ; we would also rise with 
them in the great resurrection day. 

You have read of the slaughter of the brave 
Italian troops in the gorge of Dogali, in which five 
hundred and eighty men were surprised by ten 
thousand Abyssinian troops who poured a with- 
ering fire upon them until every Italian soldier 
was killed or wounded, but not till, with heroic 
courage, they had destroyed five thousand of the 
treacherous enemy. The wounded wished to 
come home and to die and be buried in the soil of 
their loved Italy and under her brilliant skies and 
by the graves of kindred. 



2 12 AN EXAMPLE TO YOUNG DISCIPLES 

You have read how a few weeks ago Italy wel- 
comed them. It was in the beautiful harbor of 
Naples that the warship rode at anchor that had 
brought them home. The city was thronged with 
people. More than half a million of citizens from 
all parts of the kingdom crowded the streets and 
the houses to their tops. The schools were dis- 
missed, and all business was suspended. Banners, 
draped and mournful, hung on every hand. Leaves 
of oak and laurel covered the pavements, emblems 
of victorious courage. Only petals of roses and 
lilies and beautiful flowers of a sunny clime were 
permitted to be showered upon the heroes. At 
noon, when the cannon of the castle thundered 
forth the hour, a silence, like the silence of a petri- 
fied city, fell upon all the bands of music and all 
the great processions and all the inhabitants, 
while from the wharf to the hospital the ambu- 
lance-wagons passed through the smiling and 
weeping and sympathetic multitudes who so wel- 
comed home their wounded brothers. Citizens of 
noblest rank, officers of highest grade, with- hum- 
ble toilers and with mothers and little children, 
wept and rejoiced and loved. 

"Thy people shall be my people, and thy God 
my God : where thou diest will I die, and there will 
I be buried." 



XII 



THE ORNAMENT OF WOMAN 



"Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman 
that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised/ 1 — The Proverbs 
3i : 3°- 



Grand Avenue, New Haven. 



THE ORNAMENT OF WOMAN 



I had occasion a few Sabbaths ago to speak of 
some of the adverse tendencies working in our 
times on the minds of young women, and I specified 
a lack of thought, a lack of truthfulness, waste of 
time, undue desire for personal adornment, the 
passion for social excitements, the unrelieved 
slavery in necessary duty. 

Notwithstanding these tendencies which are ad- 
verse, and which are in many cases potent and 
effective, so that many young women are lured 
into lives which are a discredit to them, there are 
yet many who respond to other propitious and ele- 
vating influences and look forth upon this life as 
holding in it achievements and noblest conquests 
for themselves. 

The position of a young woman is one of special 
peculiarity. It is quite unlike that of a young 
man. To him the world is open. He is free to 
go. He is free to choose. The paths of life are 
manifold on which he may walk, and the positions 
manifold to which he may aspire. Her position is 
one of greater dependence and greater solitariness. 



2l6 THE ORNAMENT OF WOMAN 

If she abides in the home of her childhood, the 
child-feeling remains strong with her ; if she ven- 
tures out into employment for herself she is re- 
stricted to narrow bounds of service and of pleas- 
ure. However boldly she may propose to act, 
there will come the constant suggestion that she 
cannot be too independent in her feelings or her 
endeavors. She needs sympathy and fellowship 
and love. Yet her task is her own, and on most 
of the way that she chooses for herself she has to 
be alone ; she cannot admit too much confidence 
nor betray her individual preferences to unsympa- 
thetic natures. But these facts of comparative 
dependence and solitariness awaken concern and 
sympathy. We cannot look upon the young 
women of our society without care and hope for 
their future. 

I am to speak to-day of that which is the real 
ornament of the young woman. 

" Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain : but a 
woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised." 
It does not consist then in outward loveliness or 
beauty. These things have their charm. These 
have been used for ages as the wand of woman's 
power. There is a spell in them over the mind 
and heart of the grosser sex. The most urgent 
prayer of the Greek mother was for the beauty of 
her children. One of the great lawyers of Athens, 
defending the most beautiful woman of that city, 



THE ORNAMENT OF WOMAN 2 IJ 

who was accused of corrupting its youth, secured 
her acquittal by suddenly unveiling her before the 
dazzled judges. The chisels of the great sculptors 
wrought the Parian marble into forms of highest 
physical perfection. The admiration of beaut}' 
became. a passion of the people. 

Yet vice and beauty were closely connected ; 
the loveliest faces were enamelled masks over cor- 
rupt hearts; public courtesans were models of the 
matchless statues ; the sacred temples received 
their choicest adornment from the forms of the 
most degenerate women. So was it seen that favor 
is deceitful and beaut}* is vain. Great as is their 
charm, these are not the real ornament of woman. 
These may consist with depraved tastes, with dis- 
graceful habits, with indecent impurities. 

Beauty is not to be despised ; it is the wonder- 
ful gift of God. But if it makes its possessor vain, 
if it is merely of the surface, if it has no corres- 
pondence in the soul, it is a useless charm, allur- 
ing but deceiving. Real beauty is of the mind. 
To lead this forth, to give the mind reach and 
grasp, to discipline its faculties, to elevate its 
desires, to make it strong to do and to endure, to 
enlarge its knowledge that it ma}- use wisely its 
experience is the first necessity of the young 
woman of our day. Educattion is real ornament . 
Mind is more than body. When care is given ex- 
clusivelv to the latter, when this is adorned with 



2 18 THE ORNAMENT OF WOMAN 

all that taste can suggest and wealth can furnish, 
while the former is neglected, there is a dreadful 
waste of effort and expenditure. 

The first thing is the mind. The gem is more 
than the casket that holds it. The casket may be 
rough and ungainly, the diamond will glow and 
throb with light just as splendidly within it. It 
would be a waste to beautify and enrich the case 
which was to hold only a common pebble. In 
acquiring the best possible education our young 
women are simply doing justice to themselves. 
They are fortunate in living in this day, when the 
worth and privilege and desirableness of the best 
culture are freely accorded to them, when the col- 
leges are opening their doors to them, or when 
their own colleges are giving them equal advan- 
tages with those of their brothers. 

There is no dispute, or there ought to be no 
dispute, as to the equality of men and women in 
their mental constitution. God has made each sex 
for itself and for the other. It is not good that 
either should be alone. One is the complement 
of the other. They have the same mental facul- 
ties, intellect, susceptibilities, will, conscience, 
power. The same studies invite them. Histories 
have been made alike for them. The unex- 
plored territories of science, whether in the globe 
beneath us or in the astronomical worlds that 
silently roll above us, arc the inviting domain of 



THE ORNAMENT OF WOMAN 2 19 

both. Each can work on the mighty problems 
that are stated in consciousness or evolved in 
human experience. The throne of England is 
strong under its sensible queen. The telescope 
does not hold back its revelations when pointed 
by Miss Mitchell. Music, in its wealth of melody 
and harmony, reveals its fascination through the 
voices of many female singers. Letters bear the 
unchallenged stamp of the genius of woman, in 
poetry, in romance, in philosophy, in science. In 
the galleries of the Louvre, in the medical halls 
of Vienna, among the glaciers of the Alps, wo- 
men are taking hold of tasks which prove their 
ability to cope with men in discovery and achieve- 
ment. 

The young woman of this time should not be 
satisfied till she has accomplished a liberal educa- 
tion. If beyond that she can attain proficiency in 
some calling, in art, in music, in teaching, in writ- 
ing, in housewifery, in some trades that are open 
to her, in positions that she may seize with origi- 
nal audacity and hold with original ability, 
the greater will be her acquisition of real orna- 
ment. It is a disgrace to the higher civiliza- 
tion that women are not accorded equality in 
rights and in rewards with men for that which they 
are equally competent to do and equally efficient 
in doing. Sex should not be the gauge of wages ; 
good work and success, by whomsoever achieved, 



220 THE ORNAMENT OF WOMAN 

should be the gauge. This result is to be gained 
by the persistent effort of one sex and the growing 
sense of justice of the other sex. Independence 
will come from proficiency in some substantial 
calling, and in that is real adornment. 

There is a sphere of noble duty for which 
woman is eminently commissioned, the sphere of 
charity for the unfortunate. The Romish com- 
munion sets apart for this work a separated order, 
under lasting vows, of devoted Sisters of Charity, 
whose life is spent in works of sympathy and allevi- 
ation. Our Protestant churches have the sisterhood 
without, badge or vow, voluntarily taking upon 
themselves the same tasks and manifesting the same 
intrepidity and self-denial. But the service should 
be more general. Every young woman who would 
have the fairest adorning should be a member of 
this open order to which is given the honor of dis- 
pensing mercy, in seeking out the sorrowful and 
needy, in supplying bread to the hungry in body 
and in soul, in doing real sisterly work for the little 
children who are poor and distressed for the want 
of love. Pity, pity like that of Christ should be 
the beautiful ornament of our daughters, crowd- 
ing aside by its inspiring motives the listless, aim- 
less insipidity with which so many young women 
fill up their lives. Let theirs be the work of 
benevolence which shall visit every house with ben- 
efaction of some sort. Let theirs be the privilege 



THE ORNAMENT OF WOMAN 22 1 

of sustaining the cause of temperance, rejecting" 
and frowning upon bad and demoralizing drinking 
habits, holding aloof with unswerving severity 
every one who is not willing to abandon intoxicat- 
ing beverages, and proving that that society is 
of a finer sort and purer character which has its 
basis in total abstinence. 

Personal religion is the brightest ornament of a 
young woman. It is all wrong to see a young man 
coming on in life destitute of religious principle, 
but the sight of a young woman without religion 
is still more repugnant. Christianity has done 
everything to elevate and bless the womanhood. 
Women were slaves without it. They were beasts 
of burden without it. But under its sanctifying 
principles they have taken their place by the side 
of men, they have received kindness and deference 
and love, they have been treated with more than 
chivalric devotion. Gratitude should lead them to 
Christ, and Christ has had their love and faith. 
The records of all churches are bright with the 
supreme consecration of women. The dark annals 
of martyrdom attest their constancy to Christ. 
Christ has done everything for them, they have 
withheld nothing from him. Agitated by the 
problems of life, the young woman needs religion 
for her personal peace. She needs it for the friend- 
ship to which it introduces her. She needs it for 
the blessed work which it assigns to her. 



222 THE ORNAMENT OF WOMAN 

The youth, unused to the world's ways, uncer- 
tain of the future, looking toward eternity, seeks 
direction and protection, and this is found in 
Christ. The young woman who walks with him, 
whose inexperience and earnestness are controlled 
by him, cannot be lonely nor disheartened ; she has 
a present Friend who is strong and trustworthy, 
whose love brightens all her days. 

And her work is ever at hand. The anxiety and 
misery of an aimless life are taken away from her. 
In the home which she blesses with her sunny 
presence, in the offices of instruction and example 
with which she seeks to lead the younger sisters of 
her household or of other households, the groups 
which gather near to her in the Sunday-school, in 
the charity with which she ministers to the miser- 
able who welcome her as an angel from the skies, 
in the daily benediction which she pours upon her 
path for the comfort and strength and cheer of 
others, as the sun never fails to rise, she illustrates 
the beauty of a life ordered in harmony with the 
will of her Lord. She lives with a great and inspir- 
ing aim. She has nothing to wait for, as others 
seem to have, for her life is full, Christ is in it, and 
he ennobles and sanctifies it. She has peace and 
her sleep is that of the blessed. She has posses- 
sions, unfading, immortal, and friendship, and 
stainless ambition, and her work is by the side of 
the blessed Master. 



THE ORNAMENT OF WOMAN 223 

Such I take to be the real ornament of the 
young woman : education, proficiency in some 
calling, charity, religion. These are more than 
any outward adorning of plaiting the hair, or wear- 
ing of gold, or putting on of apparel. These are 
the enduring befitments of female character. Much 
is said in our day of the rights of women, and 
some young women have thrown themselves, with 
fine gifts, into the discussion and evolution of that 
subject. But there are unquestioned rights which 
will be always accorded without publicity or revo- 
lution or warfare and which are infinitely superior 
to any that belong to the platform or the polls. 

Florence Nightingale was applauded in secur- 
ing the rights she needed to become the alleviator 
of the suffering and the dying on many battle- 
fields, and to appropriate a quarter of a million of 
dollars to found a hospital for nurses who should 
be stimulated to philanthropic work by her name 
and example. 

The baroness Burdett-Coutts has needed no 
endorsement as to her rights in devoting her time 
and her fortune to the improvement of the homes 
and the habits of the poor. The young ladies who 
have gone from Mt. Holyoke Seminary to South- 
ern Africa to plant on the rescued soil of heathen- 
ism an African Holyoke, in which the daughters of 
that region may be trained for worthy lives, have 
felt no solicitude as to being accorded their rights. 



2 24 THE ORNAMENT OF WOMAN 

Nor have their sisters, from the days of Harriet 
Newell to the time when the last zenana welcomed 
the*"daughter of one of our families to be light and 
help in its darkness and misery. The great number 
of our own young women, who, under the stress of 
hard necessity or from the heroic sentiment of inde- 
pendence, have taken upon them the tasks of 
instruction and have carried into the schools a 
sublime consecration which works beyond the out- 
wards tasks in seeking to make noble the lives of 
their pupils here and to fit them for the immortal- 
ities hereafter, have no trouble in determining 
their personal rights, find in hand all that they 
have ability to achieve. 

The motive which has its impelling power in 
love to Christ, and from that, in love for the souls 
that are to be saved, heightens beyond all else 
the beauty and charm of the life of woman. There 
is much of excellence in the womanhood of the 
highest types set before us in the history and 
poetry of ancient Greece ; as in the wifely con- 
stancy of Penelope waiting for twenty long years 
for her absent husband to return from the Trojan 
war; the tenderness of Andromache for her heroic 
husband ; the sisterly devotion of Antigone, and in 
the virtues of many others whose lives may, how- 
ever, partake more of fable than of fact. But the 
redemption of Christ has been eminently the 
redemption of woman ; it has changed the nature 



THE ORNAMENT OF WOMAN 225 

of her relations and the sphere of her services; it 
has sanctified her generous impulses and broad- 
ened her self-denying activities. 

Six Roman virgins were selected to keep a per- 
petual fire on the altar of the temple of Vesta. The 
safety of the city, the welfare of every home, 
depended on the continuance of that fire. Night 
and day they were the faithful watchers of the 
ceaseless flame. If it went out their punishment 
was severe, and it could be kindled again only from 
the sun. It is a type of the influence lodged in 
the young women of the land. I believe the safety 
of society, the well-being of our homes, the glory 
of our institutions, are all dependent upon their 
character and life. In their soft hands they hold 
the silver sickles with which our harvests of good 
or of evil are to be gathered. Vice cannot last in 
the presence of their virtue. In the old legends 
the fierce lion became docile, and the untamed 
rhinoceros was fascinated before a virgin. If this 
power fails us, if our young women do not fulfill 
their responsibility, they will meet the fate of the 
vestals ; and we shall have to look to heaven in 
prayer that the quenched fire may be kindled 



*5 



XIII 
THE WORK OF WOMAN 

"The Lord giveth the word: The women that publish 
the tidings are a great host. 11 — Psalms 68 : 1 1 . 



Grand Avenue Church, New Haven. 



THE WORK OF WOMAN 



More and more woman is coming to the front 
in the progress of the Lord's kingdom on earth. 
From the first, from time to time, there have been 
individual instances of feminine heroism which 
have left a great renown in history, and have sig- 
nalized a few names as symbols, and prophetic of 
what womanhood may achieve. The poet who 
composed this verse was also a prophet. As a poet 
he felt the inspiration of his people's past history. 
One event stood grandly out in the imposing suc- 
cession of wonders which had characterized the 
career of Israel. It was the deliverance of the 
nation from the power of Egypt. In the historic 
pictures of that deliverance a female form emerged 
on the canvas. It is that of Miriam. First, she 
is standing on the banks of the Nile, keeping 
watch over a little ark of bulrushes which was 
floating among the flags, and in which lay a little 
boy. By the command of the king that boy was 
to die, but by the assurance of faith he was to live. 
Only this Hebrew girl kept ward and watch over 
him. No band of armed sentinels, not all the 



230 THE WORK OF WOMAN 

power of Israel, could have been of any avail. 
For Egypt was mighty. It was a lone maiden 
watching through the long night with a devotion 
that would not let her sleep, and with a patience 
that was rewarded by the life of one who was to 
become a great ruler in Egypt and the foremost 
leader of God's people. 

Again, she is standing on the shores of the Red 
Sea. She has grown to womanhood. She has 
become a prophetess. And that little boy whom 
she saved is now leading the hundreds of thou- 
sands of his people forth from the Egyptian bond- 
age. He is celebrating the overthrow of the 
Egyptian hosts in the Red Sea, across which the 
Hebrews have come on a dry path. And there 
Miriam, in the inspiration of her vocation, with 
flashing eye and dancing step, and voice that 
mingled with the bass of the exulting sea, is lead- 
ing the multitude of Hebrew women in their tri- 
umph and response, " Sing ye to the Lord, for he 
hath triumphed gloriously ; the horse and his 
rider hath he thrown into the sea." The poet re- 
called these facts of history. He recalled also the 
leadership of Deborah, who was a prophetess and 
a judge of Israel, the saviour of her country from 
the invasion of Sisera, "A mother in Israel," as 
she styles herself, whose victorious paean ends, <l So 
let all thine enemies perish, O Lord : but let them 
that love him be as the sun when he goeth forth 



THE WORK OF WOMAN 23 I 

in his might." He recalled, also, the heroic and 
self-sacrificing spirit of Esther (Stella), when for 
her people she most willingly took the risk of life 
or death, saying, " If I perish, I perish," and by 
her influence with the proud Persian monarch re- 
deemed her whole nation from the slaughter which 
Haman had plotted against them. He recalled, 
too, that scene after David's victory over the Phi- 
listine, when the women came out of all the cities 
of Israel, singing and dancing, with timbrels, with 
joy, and with instruments of music, singing in their 
play, " Saul hath slain his thousands, and David 
his ten thousands." And, as the review of the past 
reminded him of the important part which the 
women had borne in the progress and victories of 
the chosen people, so his prophetic foresight as- 
sured him of that great work which they also were 
to do in the spread and triumph of the good cause 
in the future. The hosts of women who had cele- 
brated with timbrels and joy and victorious psalms 
the conquests of the past, would be repeated in 
the gospel times by the mighty hosts of women 
who would take up the work of the Redeemer, and 
with a faith that should rival that of Miriam and 
Deborah and Rahab and Esther, would carry the 
gospel to the souls that are lost. And so, later on 
in the Psalm, foreseeing the full and final victory 
of Christ, he says, " The singers went before, the 
minstrels followed after, in the midst of the 



232 THE WORK OF WOMAN 

damsels playing with timbrels. . . . Kings shall 
bring presents unto thee. . . . Ethiopia shall 
haste to stretch out her hands unto God. Sing 
unto God, ye kingdoms of the earth." He fore- 
sees in prophetic vision the triumph of the Word 
in all the world. And this is to be brought about 
largely through the efficiency of woman. " The 
Lord giveth the word : The women that publish 
the tidings are a great host." 

We need not infer from this that there is to be 
or that there needs to be, any great change in the 
sphere of woman. Undoubtedly, the importance 
that is given to woman's work and the significance 
that is given to woman's mission may have turned 
the heads, or dazzled the fancy, or spurred the 
ambition, of some women, so that they have raised 
a clamor for their rights, or set about the securing 
of privileges, or sought positions of public leader- 
ship. But all this is confined to a narrow number. 
And a little experience will be sufficient to con- 
vince most women of good sense that their true 
sphere, as the Bible defines it, and as their own 
modesty would limit it, is all-sufficient for the best 
use of all the powers and opportunities that they 
possess. The right to vote, the right to mingle 
in fierce political debate, the right to hold public 
office and to bear public burdens, the right to be 
morally unsexed, — such rights as these are not the 
aim of the truest women. Their sphere, as it is, 



THE WORK OF WOMAN 233 

is ample. It is noble, also. It is wide enough 
and important enough to tax all the powers which 
women possess, and it is a work of supererogation 
on their part to seek for anything different or 
greater. If there are women, in our day, or in 
any day, who have some peculiar qualities of 
public leadership, who are of eloquent speech, so 
that they can move assemblies with exceptional 
power, who are remarkable organizers, so that 
they can plan victory, as it were, on a chart, as 
Napoleon did, who have any extraordinary gift 
which is useful and needed in the great good work, 
let such women have room, let the world get the 
benefit of their genius, if it be genius, let them 
accomplish that which perhaps would not be ac- 
complished but for their idiosyncracy. He would 
be less than a man who would deny to them their 
exceptional mission. But for women, as they are, 
without noting the exceptions, the sphere, as it is, 
is all right, and all that is wanted is the fulfilment 
of women's work in it. The best women that I 
know are not clamorers for novel rights, or new du- 
ties, or different spheres ; they are only intent on 
doing w r ell what is now at their hand to do, and 
are only anxious lest they cannot discharge that 
which from all sides is pressing upon their sympa- 
thies and their womanly obligations. They have 
no time, as they have no desire, to enter into the 
hustings with men, or to squabble for political 



234 THE WORK OF WOMAN 

place, or to lay aside the pure crown of their del- 
icacy. They want no greater privilege, as there 
is no greater glory on earth than to be the Lord's 
faithful handmaidens in widening the blessings and 
victories of his kingdom. They are co-workers 
with the Lord not only, but with men as well. 
" The Lord giveth the word : The women that 
publish the tidings are a great host." 

Relatively, their number is great. Two thirds 
of the Christians of the world are women. It 
sometimes seems as though Christianity had come 
to make good to women that of which they have 
been robbed by heathenism and false religions. 
By these they have been oppressed and tortured 
and reduced to slavery. They have been treated 
as the tool of man, as his beast of burden, and 
worse. Christianity has raised woman to her true 
place, as the equal and companion of man. She 
has found in Christ her best Friend, her omnipo- 
tent Deliverer. Christianity has awakened and 
intensified the spirit of chivalry in her behalf, so 
that woman has been the pride of man, the orna- 
ment of society, the queen in human affairs. 
And woman has repaid this regard and work of 
Christianity for her by the devotion and love and 
service and enthusiasm of her own life for Christ. 
She has returned love for love. The records of 
the progress of Christ's cause in the world flame 
with the absorbing consecration of noble and de- 



THE WORK OF WOMAN 235 

voted womanhood. She has dared and done all 
for Christ. Has there been need of service? 
Woman has offered herself. Has there been need 
of testimony? Her voice has been heard at the 
tribunals of tyranny witnessing for her Lord. Wo- 
man's blood has stained the arena of torture and 
death. Woman's flesh has borne the fire, and her 
limbs have quivered on the rack. It has not been 
with any scant service or any fewness of numbers 
that women have confessed Christ. They have 
come in mighty hosts, and they have come with 
the courage of their convictions and with the 
earnestness of their sensitive nature. It has, ap- 
parently, not been as easy for women to reject 
Christ as it has been for men. His appeal of 
tenderness and love has found response in their 
souls. And therefore it is that the women that 
publish the tidings are a great host. From their 
very numbers great results of labor are expected 
of them. They form such a large proportion of 
the Christian Church that a large part of its work 
falls to them. 

Moreover, there is special work which properly 
rests in their hands. They are the mothers and 
the teachers of Christian families. Our children 
come under their constant care. They make the 
first impressions upon growing minds ; and those 
impressions are the lasting ones. They enter into 
the growth of the soul, just as shapes and direc- 



236 THE WORK OF WOMAN 

tions that are given to the young twig are perpet- 
uated and enlarged in the mature tree. The power 
of the mother is next to the power of God. It 
may help, or it may antagonize, the power of God. 
At her knee the little child, given by the Creator 
to her tender love, gets his first ideas of God. Fol- 
lowing her voice, he puts up his first mysterious 
prayer to One whom he has never seen, but whose 
being is certain because he is assured of it by one 
whose word is the surest truth to him. Looking 
where her finger points, he sees the signals of the 
divine One in flaming sun and twinkling star, in 
odorous flowers and viewless winds. And as his 
feet march forward on the paths of life, her gentle 
hand guides him into the rudiments of grandest 
truth and into the practice of royalest virtues. 
So in her wisdom is unfolded a life that shall 
run into the immortalities. 

Home is woman's palace. There she reigns in 
queenliest influence. Ordering her own life in 
sweet harmony to the will of Christ, she brings the 
family into union with him. Many and many 
times over have I seen a whole household swayed 
to subjection to our Lord by the consistent walk 
and will of one maternal mind. When in all our 
homes the great host of those who hold this power 
shall consecrate it to the Redeemer the golden 
day of prophetic sight shall rise. 

To woman, also, it is committed as a trust to 



THE WORK OF WOMAN 237 

teach those who are untaught in the faith. It is 
characteristic of the feminine nature to put up 
with much self-denial for the sake of others. No 
one can look upon the endurance of the lowly 
poor in the cares of motherhood, upon the self- 
sacrifice of those daughters who, having been 
brought up in luxury, abandon all their customary 
privileges to become the ministers to the sick and 
the wounded and the perplexed, and especially to 
carry the gospel to the rough and wretched, 
to outcasts whom men despise, and to heathen 
whose pitiful cry for help sounds out to the Chris- 
tian world, without feeling that he has come upon 
regal heroism, upon the grandest instances of 
sainthood. Death for the cause is nothing to the 
lives which some grand women live. You know 
the record which our women have made as physi- 
cians in China ; carrying the medicines of healing 
in their left hand and the gospel of our salvation 
in their right hand ; in the zenanas of India, en- 
tering those secluded enclosures of lonely wives 
and repressed daughters with the light of civiliza- 
tion and the cheer of feminine faith ; in the groves 
of Ceylon, and on the forbidden soil of Japan, and 
in the darkness of the Dark Continent, planting 
schools of Christian knowledge, and seeking at 
least to save the children. 

And here, at home, in the noon of Christian 
progress, how necessary is her work for the unfor- 



238 THE WORK OF WOMAN 

tunate and depraved ! Who can persuade like a 
woman? Who can resist a voice that reminds him 
of his mother's? Who can draw back from a 
touch like that of the hand that soothed and ca- 
ressed in the pure days that are gone? I am con- 
vinced that the work of rescuing fallen men and 
women from intemperance, of saving our youth 
from habits of drinking, must be done by women, 
a great host of whom are already enlisted for this 
work ; must be done by them by a method that 
they have never yet tried, but which will be vastly 
more effective than public talk and open conven- 
tions ; must be done by a hand-to-hand work, by 
going in the simple earnestness of Christian faith 
into all the homes of the people, and by that per- 
suasion which woman knows best how to use, 
securing a pledge from non-voters that they will 
use every means in their power to overthrow the 
sale of strong drink, and from voters that they will 
use the ballot, irrespective of all political parties, 
to outlaw the insolent rum power. When that 
work can be done, well done, done in the faith of 
martyr-days, the dreary curse and woes of intem- 
perance will be among the glooms that are past. 

And this principle of service, in which the spe- 
cial fitness of women for it stands eminently forth, 
must be applied and illustrated in the parochial 
work of the Church before that work will be gener- 
ally consummated. That women have this special 



THE WORK OF WOMAN 239 

fitness is philosophically true, and has been abun- 
dantly illustrated in the conquests and progress of 
Christianity. The emotional element is stronger 
in women than it is in men, and they are more 
powerfully moved by the sense of duty. One of 
our strong writers has said, "An ideal type, in 
which meekness, gentleness, patience, humility, 
faith and love, are the most prominent features, is 
not naturally male, but female." And these are 
the very virtues which are called for in the paro- 
chial labor of the Church. To women, very largely, 
must be committed the work of teaching. Who 
can seek out and gather and influence the children 
like them? To them, also, must be committed 
the winning to religious worship and to attention 
to the salvation of their souls of the vast and 
growing numbers who neglect God's house, know 
no blessed Sabbath, have no care for their souls 
nor for their hereafter. Who can go into all 
the homes, make a way for truth and light into 
all the hearts of lost households, gain for Christ 
a love that has been neglected and that has been 
sadly squandered in other ways, like Christ's 
own handmaidens? The church that is strong in 
women, young women and older women, who are 
willing to do this work, will have its hands full and 
its heart full, and will make Christ's heart full, too, 
of joy in its service and its success ! The parishes 
are waiting for it, and the Lord is waiting for it ! 



240 THE WORK OF WOMAN 

It must be done on a systematized plan of Chris- 
tian work. Spasmodic and promiscuous and hap- 
hazard service will not do. Each Christian worker 
must have an allotted and definite field, and the 
souls within that field, all of them, must be as 
familiarly known as the souls of the worker's 
household. The Sunday-school class is definitely 
bounded for each teacher. But how many teach- 
ers there are who utterly slight their work, who 
absolutely do nothingon plan or purpose to save 
their classes ! Better, far better, never to take the 
place of a teacher than, taking it, to misuse it ! 
Better not assume the care of those souls, than to 
have both the care and the blood of them upon 
your soul ! 

And if this work, for which women have a spe- 
cial fitness, cannot be done, then it were about as 
well to report our failure at once. We shall have 
no good and full account to give unless among 
converted and saved women there is a disposition 
to carry, in the love of Christ, the gospel of Christ, 
to the lost whom they are so well fitted to reach. 

I have said that this special fitness has been 
abundantly illustrated in the progressive conquests 
of Christianity. The mothers of those great men 
who gave such historic grandeur to the triumph of 
Christianity, like the mothers of Augustine and 
Chrysostom, were devoted laborers for the great 
Master. The wives and sisters of the men who led 



THE WORK OF WOMAN 24 1 

in the defence of the faith, and from their thrones 
of power aided the cause forward, were women 
who counted not their lives dear to themselves for 
their love to the Redeemer. The blood that stood 
in pools on the arenas of martyrdom was blood 
that flowed from the veins of maidens and mothers 
who would esteem no honor so great as to live and 
die for Him who died for them. The charities of 
the Church, which gave a new glory to it not only 
but to our common humanity as well, were distrib- 
uted by the fair hands of women, some of whom 
came from palaces to tend the poor, the sick, the 
dying. There has been no age, there has been no 
church, whether in dark times or in prosperous 
times, that has not received new luster from the 
self-denying labors and charities of Christian wo- 
men, who have thus blessed the world, while they 
have crowned with moral dignity themselves. 

Near to the great name of Christ is the name of 
the most honored of all the women of the world, 
whose pure and radiant form has fixed the eyes of 
all who have truly loved her Son, and has cher- 
ished a reverence which has chastened and en- 
nobled the virtues which have so fitted woman for 
her great part in the rescue of the race. 
16 



XIV 



PRESENT BLESSEDNESS OF CHRIS 
TIANS 



" Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, 
who hath blessed" us with every spiritual blessing in the 
heavenly places in Christ." — Ephesians, 1:3. 



New Britain, First Church. 



PRESENT BLESSEDNESS OF CHRISTIANS 



Much is said and much is thought of the bless- 
edness of the saints in their future home. And 
thitherward our thoughts should certainly go. As 
the traveler, weary with sights and toils, turns 
longingly toward his home, as the voyager, tossed 
in the perils of storm and wave, gazes across the 
sea to his port, so should we have aspirations for 
the bright land that is waiting for us. But there 
is blessedness for the righteous this side of heaven. 
Our joy is not all for futurity. Our glory is 
not all to be revealed. There is music on the 
march as well as in the coming triumph. There 
are festivities before we come to the final feast. 
There is glad fellowship here like that which is to 
be shared hereafter. There are even some good 
things on this side which we cannot take over on 
to that side. And here and now we have Christ, 
who is the light and the glory of the heavenly 
world. 

" Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord 
Jesus Christ, who hath blessed us with every spir- 
itual blessing in the heavenly places in Christ." 



246 PRESENT BLESSEDNESS OF CHRISTIANS 

This is not the tone of one who has no joy yet, 
who is living wholly on the expectancy of good 
things yet to come. "Who hath blessed us" 
already, not with meager gifts, but with " every 
spiritual blessing " as of heavenly things in Christ 
now. 

My subject is, The Present Blessedness of Chris- 
tians. 

I. Anticipation is itself blessed. So true is 
this, that there is a proverb which makes an- 
ticipation more than the reality. The imagina- 
tion floods the coming events with unreal light, 
makes them glow in deeper colors than nature 
ever paints. The boy who looks forward with 
bounding joy to vacation, finds vacation more 
prosy than his poetic sense had pictured it. The 
youth who strains on the leash of parental control 
in the coveting of what he fancies to be freedom, 
finds that freedom is a snare, and often a bondage. 
Men who work for competence and independence 
as the state of ideal bliss, sigh for the tasks of 
their younger and better days. The anticipation 
was more than the reality. In the expectation 
was their real happiness. Now, although this 
cannot be true of the looking forward to heavenly 
experiences, although no foretaste can equal the 
real enjoyment of the skies, although the eye 
cannot now look upon any picture which the 
imagination can paint so vivid as the actual scenes 



PRESENT BLESSEDNESS OF CHRISTIANS 247 

of heaven, yet there is solid blessedness in the 
expectation of that which is certainly to be ours, 
and all the more because we know that in this 
case the proverb cannot come true that our fore- 
sight shall surpass the actual vision. We are 
anticipating as we sail on over these leagues of 
tossing seas, through these mementoes of awful 
wrecks, on these waste tracks of the mariners 
who have spread their canvas before us, a haven 
toward whose lighted piers prows are pointing 
on every watery highway, into whose golden and 
brilliant streets sweep the weary crews when their 
sails are furled, to whose treasures are brought the 
loaded freight from all the lands beneath the sun, 
the golden crops and the costly products of till- 
age and of toil. And we are not to be disap- 
pointed. Our anticipation has something substan- 
tial under it. We cannot, indeed, come up to the 
reality. Wrote one who for the first time saw one 
of the great epics in stone, " It was the first cathe- 
dral I had ever been in. The shock and the won- 
der of its grandeur took my breath away. The 
vastness, coolness, stillness and splendor crushed 
me, — the great solemn rays of sunlight coming in 
slanting glory through the windows, — the huge 
height, the impression it gave of greatness, of 
pure, noble hearts, and patient, skilful hands, 
toiling, but in a spirit that made the toil a holy 
prayer, all was too much for me, the more so in 



248 PRESENT BLESSEDNESS OF CHRISTIANS 

that while I felt it all, I could not analyze it. I 
tried to conceal my tears." The desire of many 
years found more than fulfilment. And so the 
longing of all those who look forward to the 
heavenly state will be more than met. The only 
disappointment there, will be that of desire and 
expectation surpassed. The greatness and the 
glory, the vastness of the bliss and of the service, 
will " take the breath away," will whelm the being 
with delight and awe. Yet is it not a great thing 
that we can anticipate that which is sure to more 
than meet our fondest, fullest expectation? The 
ideal will find itself surpassed by the real. So we 
go on in this joyful hope and with these forepledges 
our better life. We have a present blessedness in 
the certainty of a greater blessedness yet to be. 
Everything points forward. The gales drive us 
nearer home. The pennons stream toward the 
port. Every eye gazes into the distances ahead. 
Our reckoning respects the time that yet remains. 
Prayers go up for patience to wait. Songs that 
are in all the air swell with the gladness of chorals 
that are to be lifted by the redeemed of all the 
nations and all the ages. There are sweet scenes 
here to be looked upon and admired ; but the 
saints have a vision of scenes lovelier far, dimly 
seen, but with glory lighting them, as, in the pic- 
tures of the old masters, in the distances of the 
background will be the faint suggestion of golden 



PRESENT BLESSEDNESS OF CHRISTIANS 249 

domes and aspiring pinnacles of light and white 
robes of spiritual beings, with flashes of glory far 
off too splendid for the eye to see. 

The thought of these heavenly things, given to 
the aspirings of those who are approaching them, 
makes meaning for the doxology, " Blessed be the 
God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who 
hath blessed us with every spiritual blessing in 
the heavenly places in Christ." 

II. This blessedness arises from the present ex- 
periences of Christians. It is not all in the antici- 
pation of what they are to attain, but it is partly 
in the possession of what they have already gained. 
" Who hath blessed us with every spiritual bless- 
ing." When we come into the adoption of chil- 
dren with God, so that we can truly walk in the 
light and love of his Fatherliness, knowing him as 
reconciled to us, we enter upon the enjoyment of 
certain great personal experiences, which are our 
most valued possessions ; which give us more sat- 
isfaction than anything else can give ; which remain 
when other things are lost; which make us rich 
when we are poor, and strong when we are weak, 
and happy when we are miserable, and give us 
good company when we are lonely, and make us 
satisfied when we are disappointed, reversing the 
logic of life for us, and rendering actual that which 
might seem sentimental and ideal. For when we 
let the true light shine on things, a new appearance 



250 PRESENT BLESSEDNESS OE CHRISTIANS 



and a new value are given to them. When we get 
the idea of this world as a training-school for future 
study and service, it wears a different aspect from 
that which it had when we made it the end in it- 
self for our ambition and effort. When we come 
to feel that our place for all eternity will depend 
on our acquisitions now, that rank in heaven re- 
sults from attainment on earth, we set less store 
by those things which are in their nature perish- 
able, and which only contribute to the gratification 
of temporary senses, and we raise to a new value 
those which are as immortal as ourselves, and 
which will enter into the essentials of our superior 
life. The gildings and frescoes of a tomb are not 
of much account to that part of man which sleeps 
in it. The eternal treasures of culture and power 
are beyond price to that other part of man which 
soars to immortality. 

There are, we may say, carnal blessings, — things 
which minister to the gratification of the eye and 
the ear and the palate and the touch. But the eye 
is to be dim to-morrow, and the ear is to catch.no 
sound then, and taste and touch arc to be as " lost 
arts " thereafter. What is it which makes of these 
everything? which absorbs in these all that a 
man has? which lavishes on these thought and 
talent and time and wealth and wisdom ? Shall a 
man build on a running stream or a quicksand? 
There are, too, assuredly spiritual blessings. There 



PRESENT BLESSEDNESS OE CHRISTIANS 25 I 

are the priceless treasures of a pacified conscience* 
and an eternal hope and a heavenly joy. There- 
is pardon of sin. There is peace with God. There 
is salvation. There is growth in grace. There is 
adoption as children of God. There is the in- 
dwelling of the Spirit. There is the assurance of 
heaven. There is sainthood which is more than 
kinghood. There is childhood which is more than 
princedom. There is the fact that one is redeemed 
in the great love and by the great sacrifice of an- 
other, so that the darkness and the woe of sin are 
past forever, and so that the serenity and the secu- 
rity of eternal salvation are forever assured. These 
are in the present experience of Christians. These 
are the spiritual blessings with which they are now 
blessed. If they do not have them it is because 
they do not take them. They have the title to 
them. No estate of an old family is so fortified 
by records running back into antiquity, by pos- 
session through successive generations, as is the 
spiritual estate of the true Christian. As the heir 
looks upon his ancestral halls, as his eye takes in 
the sweep of meadow and of woodland, of orchard 
and of garden, he feels that they are his by old 
inheritance, by the sure title-deeds of his ancient 
family, and that no one can dispute his claim. 
Here are the seals and the coat of arms and the 
legend of his race and the signatures of his fathers. 
He holds his property by undoubted right. So 



252 PRESENT BLESSEDNESS OF CHRISTIANS 

the saint holds these great possessions now, by 
royal charter, by inherited title, by the seal of di- 
vine blood, by records of the divine Spirit, by 
words of inspired truth. They are his, and no 
power shall separate him from them. He is in a 
line of unbroken and undisputed possession. He 
is in the personal enjoyment of the blessings ; 
knows that he has pardon and peace and salvation 
and the indwelling Spirit. He is happy, or may be 
happy in the fact. His own experiences, in trial, 
in loss, in loneliness, in labor, in faith, lead him to 
say, ''Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord 
Jesus Christ, who hath blessed us with every spir- 
itual blessing in the heavenly places in Christ." 

III. The present blessedness of Christians 
springs from their present relation to Christ. It is 
not permitted to us now to see him ; the vision of 
his face is future ; and now we are absent from the 
Lord. Yet now and here there are spiritual bless- 
ings in heavenly things in Christ. Already Christ 
is more than all else. As in old galleries, where 
are pictures of the great and the good there is but 
one head that has the glory around it, distinguish- 
ing him from all human persons, so in life, what- 
ever may be our relation to those whom we esteem 
and love, there is One who is altogether lovely, 
whom we trust in the darkest hours, to whom we 
commit all things that are most precious to us ; 
who abides while changes go forward, while friends 



PRESENT BLESSEDNESS OF CHRISTIANS 253 

pass into the unseen, while infirmity and age lay 
their burdens on us. Through distance, through 
storm, through shipwreck, we see the aureola 
which assures us of His presence who has said, I 
will never leave thee, nor forsake thee. There is 
light on every dark path, there is light on every 
tempestuous sea ; it is the light of his love. 

Christ has not so gone away that he has for- 
saken his friends. He is only absent to sight; 
but he is present to faith. He is more present 
than if we could merely see him. He is humanly 
away, but he is divinely with us. He speaks to 
us now; the same precious words, even with fuller 
meaning, that he spake to his disciples when he 
was bodily with them, are his undoubted language 
to us, full of affection and sympathy. He speaks 
to us in the tones that we need most to hear. 
Are you in sorrow, sorrow from the loss of those 
whom you could not spare, from the upsetting of 
plans and hopes that you set most store by, sor- 
row from the immeasurable folly of those whom 
you most of all wish to do well, sorrow from pain 
of soul of which you can speak to no human 
friend? There is no speech that can reach you 
like these full-souled words of Him who carried all 
our griefs and bore all our sorrows, whose friend- 
ship is infinite, and who has the ability to do all 
that his love prompts him to do. Are you in sin, 
unforgiven yet, but wishing, beginning to wish, 



254 PRESENT BLESSEDNESS OF CHRISTIANS 

that you may be forgiven, wanting to shake off 
these shackles that so hold you down and that so 
cramp all that is best in you ? No one can speak 
to you like Christ; you must hear him or you 
might as well be deaf to all voices. He promises 
pardon and promises rest. Are you in that 
uncertainty that you need leaderships hand safe 
enough and strong enough to guide you out of 
trouble into assurance and into peace and into 
victory at last? Well, there is but one Hand in 
the universe that can do it. If you have faith to 
grasp it and to cling to it, and still to grasp and 
cling, whatever betides, you will come out well. 
It is within your reach. It is stretched out for you. 
And it has been proved to be strong by the mul- 
titudes who have laid hold of it in their direst 
needs and with their fullest faith. Christ can do 
all for you as a needy sinner, as a pardoned sin- 
ner, as a sinner on the way to heaven, that he 
has ever done for any sinner and that you can 
want done for you. Look at Paul, look at John 
Newton, look at your precious mother, look at the 
most revered and the most loved and the most 
sanctified, and remember that their Saviour is 
your Saviour now, your present Saviour. 

In these present relations of Christ to his peo- 
ple is the foundation of their present blessedness. 
It is well to think of what he was, it is well to think 
of what he forever will be ; but the look back- 



PRESENT BLESSEDNESS OF CHRISTIANS 255 

ward and the look forward should both be to give 
us greater confidence in him now. 

He is on the throne for us ! He rules the uni- 
verse for us ! This work of human salvation is 
so great that all the worlds should stop on their 
grand revolutions before this should stop ! The 
Lord Almighty, who made the world and the race 
that peoples it, is the Saviour of it ! At his name 
every knee shall bow, of things in heaven, and 
things in earth, and things under the earth ! He 
is head over all things to his Church ! If we want 
safety we have it. If we want heaven we have that. 
For this union to Christ now is " heaven begun 
below." In every view, then, we ma)' take up this 
old doxology, ''Blessed be the God and Father of 
our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath blessed us with 
every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places in 
Christ." We have an anticipation that cannot be 
unrealized. We have experiences that are full of 
satisfaction. We have Christ himself, the hope 
of glory, the Saviour of our souls, the Friend 
and Helper of our life. 

In the conquests of the Mohammedans, when 
Mosslemah had entered Constantinople, he would 
not leave that city without the cross which hung 
in its most sacred temple. His victorious troops 
had reached the gates of the city when the Greek 
emperor, for that city was then a Christian city, 
proposed an accommodation by the payment of 



256 PRESENT BLESSEDNESS OF CHRISTIANS 

tribute and by recognizing the Mohammedan sov- 
ereignty, so that Constantinople might not fall. 
But the victorious leader replied that he was under 
oath that he would never depart till he had seen 
the glories of Constantinople. Accordingly he 
was permitted to enter alone. Outside the gates 
his troops were ranged in formidable force to 
carry destruction and slaughter into it if any 
treachery should occur. Within, from the gates 
to the magnificent cathedral of St. Sophia, were 
drawn up the splendid troops of the empire, and 
between their ranks rode the solitary Moham- 
medan warrior. It was a picture for a painter. 
From head to foot he was clad in polished armor 
of mail, but over his helmet he wore a turban of 
white linen and from his shoulders down he was 
covered with a mantle of finest silk. In his bal- 
dric he bore his trusty scimetar and in his hand a 
lance from the head of which streamed a white 
banner, the symbol of peace. He moved silently 
to the palace through the throngs who admired 
his majesty and boldness. Then, with the mon- 
arch on foot by his side, he rode to the cathedral 
church. Among all its splendid decorations there 
was none like the cross of goid, so brilliant with 
its jewels of untold value that it lighted the 
sacred edifice. On this he laid his hands, swear- 
ing that he would never leave the city without it. 
Fixing it, reversed, to the head of his lance, by 



PRESENT BLESSEDNESS OF CHRISTIANS 257 

the white symbol of peace, he bore it in triumph 
through the streets of the insulted city, just as his 
army was about to enter it to avenge his sup- 
posed death. The cross was the sole spoil which 
Constantinople yielded to its imperious invader. 
With that in his possession he was satisfied to 
leave all its other treasures behind him. Without 
that he would have called his eager armies within 
the gates and wasted the wealth and glory of that 
great metropolis. 

To us it is offered, with all that it means, in 
peaceful and welcome possession. We have not 
to gain it by conquest, but by willing acceptance. 

Not only the cross, but He who gave it its mean- 
ing and glory, are within our reach, are urged 
upon our loving reception. Christ and his cross ! 
These are ours now — possessions above all others, 
our present joy and our eternal glory. With these, 
we may renounce all other treasures. Without 
these, nothing — not the wealth of the world, not 
the honors, nor the proudest successes of the 
world — could satisfy us. 

My brethren, with us let Christ be first ; let 
Christ be all. 
17 



XV 



UNTARNISHED DISCIPLESHIP 



*« Will ye lie among the sheepfolds, as the wings of a dove 
covered with silver, and her pinions with yellow gold." — 
Psalms 68:13. 



North Church, New Haven. 

Also in Treasury, New York. 



L_ 



UNTARNISHED DISCIPLESHIP 



The doves of God, flashing with their plumage 
of silver and of gold, above the earth, while yet of 
it, are the significant emblems of those who are 
aspiring to the renewed life. The greater the 
light is in which they soar, the greater is the 
beauty reflected on feather and pinion. The 
stronger the gale is against which they sweep, the 
quicker will be the flash of light from beating wing 
and quivering plume. Above all foulness and alt 
deadly miasms, above the low-settling mists and 
the entangling nets and the destructive shots of 
the fowler, they mount into the unobstructed fields 
of the firmament and, from the glorious vision- 
place of the upper air, look down on the dimmed 
and fouled world beneath them. 

It is the symbol of saints overcoming and aspir- 
ing. It matters but little what interpretation we 
give to the obscure opening clause of the text, 
whether we read as in the old version, among the 
pots of the kitchen, with their defiling crock and 
smut, or among the hurdles, or among the sheep- 



262 UNTARNISHED DISCIPLESHIP 

folds, or within the boundaries, all of which mean- 
ings have been given to it. Nor does it matter much 
whether we make the wings of the dove refer 
directly to the people of God, as when the Psalm- 
ist speaks of "the soul of thy turtledove " in his 
prayer to God, or as when the Prophet speaks of 
them as " trembling as a bird out of Egypt, and as 
a dove out of the land of Assyria; " or whether 
we consider this as a description of the opulent 
spoil which should inflame the world-conquerors, 
and should rebuke those who lie at ease without a 
struggle to gain it; or whether it is the promise 
and figure of the brilliant lot appointed to victori- 
ous believers in the lap of coming peace ; all of 
which meanings have been gathered from it. 

Whether now, living amidst the corruptions of a 
world with which they are at war, they keep clear 
of its defilements and soar above its degradations 
as on the wings of doves flashing in the sunlight 
with silver and with gold ; or whether hereafter, 
all the struggle and the sorrow past, as those who 
have returned from battle to their homes in peace, 
they will be adorned with jewels of immortal splen- 
dor, like a dove with wings of silver and pinions 
of gold ; in either case it brings before us in bril- 
liant figure the disciples of Christ untarnished by 
the world and prepared for the purity of the 
heavenly state. Perhaps the meaning which St. 
Cyril gave it a millennium and a half ago is as 



UNTARNISHED DISCIPLESHIP 263 

good as any: "They will no longer mind earthly 
things, but mount up to heaven as on the wings 
of the divine dove." So it harmonizes with that 
other Scripture in the same Book, " Blessed are 
they that are perfect in the way, who walk in the 
law of the Lord ; " and with that characterization 
which an apostle gives of " pure religion and un- 
defined before our God and Father," as " to keep 
himself unspotted from the world." 

That we who would serve God and follow Christ 
are in the world is a palpable condition of that 
service and following. Christ himself would not 
pray that we should be taken out of the world, but 
that his Father would keep us from the evil that is 
in it. For the discipline from which comes high- 
est character, life in this world is well adapted. 
There might be flabby sentiment and pusillani- 
mous purpose and feeble faith under conditions of 
ease and carelessness, and that involved no strug- 
gling. But it is better to have some risk and even 
some failures, than to have dead uniformity and 
unmitigated mediocrity, if out of the whole trial 
shall proceed strong and enduring character that 
shall fit those who have it not only for honor but 
for eternal service, so that they shall mount up 
with wings as eagles, and run and not be weary, 
and walk and not faint. 

That the world, separated from God, given over 
to the corruptions of sin, whether considered as 



264 UNTARNISHED DISCIPLESHIP 

made up of the men who know nothing else but 
to serve it, or of the enticements which it holds 
out to lust in many ways, is to Christians a source 
of constant defilement, is simply a matter of on- 
going history and unwritten biography. Its temp- 
tations are continual and perpetual, and those who 
ought to soar like doves on gleaming wings of 
speed and strength, lie like scullions among sooty 
pots. Those who are "called to be saints" and 
are washed with the water of regeneration, are 
defiled with the impurities of ungodliness, so that 
the hands which should be clean are fouled, and 
the souls that should be cleansed are like the 
nests of unclean birds. The life in the world is 
full of risk and disaster ; many who appear well for 
a time are overthrown to their dishonor and to the 
discredit of the Church. So the ecclesiastical rec- 
ords have on them names that are smirched, names 
that would be worthless on a promissory note, and 
would carry no weight as an endorsement on busi- 
ness paper. 

That real Christians, though in the world . and 
though exposed to the polluting enticements of it, 
should live above it and as not of it, like doves 
that have their home and get their living on it, yet 
breathe the pure air on high, and spread their 
shining wings in flights toward the sky, is the 
plainest duty of their heavenly calling and their 
holy profession. It is not for them to wear the 



UNTARNISHED DISCIPLESHIP 265 

grime of the sheepfolds, though they lie among 
them, to get the contamination of sin, though their 
business is in the midst of it, to fall into the polluted 
habits of sinners, though necessarily in their society. 
Every Christian should be like a shining light in 
the midst of darkness ; like a precious gem in the 
refuse and rubbish of the mine ; like salt in the 
corrupting and spoiling masses. He should come 
forth from all the world's affairs in which he must 
be engaged, from its business and its politics and 
its society, with a character untarnished, a mind 
clean and heavenly, a person pure, a conscience 
unseared, his whole individuality free from con- 
tamination, as out of the crock and soot of pots 
sails the dove with her wings covered with silver 
and her feathers with yellow gold. 

The Christian faith demands this incorruptible- 
ness by reason of the supreme purity of its 
Founder. That divine life, which appeared in 
human garb, subject to the conditions of our real 
life, yet maintaining evermore its heavenly quality, 
making one path of light through the environing 
darkness of the world, is a model and an example 
for all who profess to follow if. He knew no sin. 
He was indeed touched with the feeling of our 
infirmities, yet it was without the stain or smirch 
or distress of sin. He was holy, harmless, unde- 
filed, separate from sinners, and, though on the 
earth, made higher than the heavens. 



266 UNTARNISHED DISCIPLESHIP 

He did no sin, neither was guile found in his 
mouth. Righteousness was the girdle of his loins, 
and faithfulness the girdle of his reins. He 
suffered for us, leaving us an example that we 
should follow his steps. And that example is the 
brightest thing in all history. It is the only pure 
light in the darkness of a world that would be 
all night without it. It has worked on men in 
these later centuries of the Christian dispensation 
with the same power that it had on the disciples in 
the earlier centuries. It has inspired the noblest 
life among men of culture and taste and high posi- 
tion, even as it has dignified the lowly life of the 
poor and ignorant and overworked, blessing the 
castle as it has blessed the cottage beside it, making 
Christian faith the richest possession of the scholar 
and the statesman, as of the street-sweeper and the 
washerwoman. We know what grace it has added 
to learning, and to the manliest accomplishments, 
and what a leading force it has been in the prog- 
ress of the Christian civilizations and the world's 
later enlightenment. It has also worked downward 
into the lowest strata of society and brought up, 
with its quickening forces, large enrichment from 
the otherwise degraded elements of humanity, as 
from deep and dark mines the richest jewels are 
quarried for sword-hilts and crowns. In his <4 His- 
tory of European Morals," Lecky observes, "It is 
the peculiarity of the Christian types that, while 



UNTARNISHED DISCIPLESHIP 267 

they have fascinated the imagination, they have 
also purified the heart. The tender, winning, and 
almost feminine beauty of the Christian Founder, 
the Virgin Mother, the agonies of Gethsemane and 
Calvary, the many scenes of compassion and suf- 
fering that fill the sacred writings, are the pictures 
which, for eighteen hundred years, have governed 
the imaginations of the rudest and most ignorant 
of mankind. Associated with the fondest recol- 
lections of childhood, with the music of the church 
bells, with the clustered lights and tinsel splendor 
that seem to the peasant the very ideal of majesty ; 
painted over the altar where he received the com- 
panion of his life, around the cemetery where so 
many whom he had loved were laid, on the sta- 
tions of the mountain, on the portal of the vine- 
yard, on the chapel where the storm-tossed mari- 
ner fulfills his grateful vow; keeping guard over 
his cottage door, looking down upon his humble 
bed, forms of tender beauty and gentle pathos for- 
ever haunt the poor man's fancy, and silently win 
their way into the very depths of his being." 

And thus it comes to pass that throughout the 
peoples to whom Christ is the one living Example, 
and on whose lives he has wrought as the one 
object of an undoubting faith, for whom they can 
live, for whom equally they can die, there is de- 
veloped a character of strength and purity and 
incorruptibleness, which would grace and dignify 



268 UNTARNISHED DISCIPLESHIP 

any annals. Out of black mines, out of the smoke 
and soot of furnaces and forges, out of the slime 
and ooze of mud-flats and tan-vats, out of the dust 
and grime of mills and engines, out of the close 
air of the forecastle and the soil of plantations, has 
come the clean character of those who were there, 
walking with the immaculate Redeemer, and aspir- 
ing to the heavenly life, as from the soot of pots 
doves might soar with wings covered with silver 
and feathers with yellow gold. 

It shows the might of the Saviour's power, the 
influence of his supreme purity. That which came 
upon him during the prayer which he offered 
when he was being baptized — when " the Holy 
Ghost descended in a bodily form, as a dove, 
upon him, and a voice came out of heaven, 
1 Thou art my beloved Son ; in thee I am well 
pleased ' " — has come upon those who have taken 
him as their one Saviour and Example, and they 
have felt his renewing power and his sanctifying 
grace, purging them of foulness and viciousness, 
and giving them ability to walk in newness of 
life. The Holy Spirit has created in them a 
clean heart, and has renewed a right spirit within 
them, so that they have put off the old man, which 
is corrupt, according to the deceitful lust, and have 
put on the new man, which, after God, is created 
in righteousness and true holiness. And thus they 
have been brought into oneness with the Son of 



UNTARNISHED DISCIPLESHIP 269 

God, " for as many as are led by the Spirit of God, 
these are the sons of God." 

The Christian life is a simple following of Christ. 
The standard which we need to hold before us is 
Christ himself. 

Again, the Christian faith demands that believ- 
ers should be undefiled in the world by reason of 
the -pureness of the early Christians. To this 
they were enjoined by the Apostolic writings, as 
they were stimulated to it by the Apostolic exam- 
ple. Amidst the open and abounding corruptions 
of the pagan world they maintained a pure deport- 
ment and conversation, which was a rebuke to 
their enemies, as it was a renown to themselves. 
It was a standing and an irresistible and unanswer- 
able testimony to the superiority of their faith over 
whatever tenets of pagan belief. Their conversa- 
tion was in heaven. Though in the world, though 
exposed to peculiar and great hardships as follow- 
ers of Christ, they proved that their thoughts and 
their love went to One who had died for them, but 
now reigned for them. They were exposed to the 
hardest trials, to persecutions, to death. They 
had but one answer. They were Christians in life, 
in death as well. One who was threatened with 
torments without mercy, if he did not renounce 
Christ, replied : " There is nothing which we more 
earnestly desire than to endure torments for the 
sake of our Lord Jesus Christ." And one oi the 



270 UNTARNISHED DISCIPLESHIP 

noblest of the martyrs, while his hands were bound 
behind him at the stake, and the fagots were piled 
around him for the fire, prayed : " Omnipotent 
Lord God, Father of thy beloved and blessed 
Son, Jesus Christ, through whom we have received 
the knowledge of Thee, I bless Thee that on this 
day and hour Thou hast counted me worthy to 
make one of the number of thy martyrs, to par- 
take of the cross of Christ, and to look for the res- 
urrection to eternal life, both of soul and body, 
through the power of the Holy Spirit, praying 
that I may be received to-day among the number 
of thy saints as a rich and acceptable sacrifice." 

About ten years after the death of St. John, the 
younger Pliny became a Roman proconsul in a 
region where the Christians were numerous. He 
wrote to the Emperor Trajan for instructions as to 
the treatment of the professors of Christianity. 
He says that he could collect nothing against 
them except what he regarded as " a depraved 
and excessive superstition." And, as he de- 
scribed it, their religion was that "they were 
accustomed, on a stated day, to meet before day- 
light, and to repeat among themselves a hymn to 
Christ as to a god, and to bind themselves, with 
an oath, by an obligation of not committing any 
wickedness ; also of not violating their promise, 
or denying a pledge ; after which it was their cus- 
tom to separate and to meet again at a harmless 



UNTARNISHED DISCIPLESHIP 27 1 

meal." The strong writer from whom I have once 
quoted, says : " The fathers were long able to 
challenge their adversaries to produce a single in- 
stance in which any other crime than his faith was 
proved against a martyr, and they urged with a 
just and noble pride, that whatever doubt there 
might be of the truth of the Christian doctrines, or 
of the divine origin of the Christian miracles, there 
was, at least, no doubt that Christianity had trans- 
formed the characters of multitudes, vivified the 
cold heart by new enthusiasm, redeemed, regener- 
ated and emancipated the most depraved of man- 
kind. Noble lives, crowned by heroic deaths, 
were the best arguments of the infant Church." 
The Christianity which commenced with this sep- 
arateness from the world's defilement, and stood 
by it against the terrors of indignity and death, 
should be maintained to the end, as above re- 
proach, and free from contamination. In the early 
and dark days a dove was represented as issuing 
from the mouth of dying Christians, and winging 
his swift flight to light and glory inexpressible. 
The later Church caught the meaning of the beau- 
tiful symbol of the earlier Church and transfig- 
ured it ! 

Also, the Christian faith calls for undefiled de- 
portment and character in its professors in the 
world, in virtue of the ini?nacnlate purity of the 
world to which they aspire. They desire a better 



272 UNTARNISHED DISCIPLESHIP 

country, that is, a heavenly. Their Lord has gone 
to prepare a place for them ; and he will receive 
them unto himself, that where he is they may be 
also. And they shall see his face, and shall be- 
hold his glory, and shall be like him, and shall be 
presented faultless before the presence of his glory 
with exceeding joy, and shall shine forth as the 
sun in the kingdom of their Father. 

It is that a people may be prepared here for 
the pure world of light and glory that Christ's 
great work was done. He gave himself for it, 
that he might sanctify and cleanse it with the 
washing of water by the Word, that he might pre- 
sent it to himself a glorious Church, not having 
spot or wrinkle, or any such thing, but that it 
should be holy and without blemish. His re- 
deemed will ascribe glory and dominion unto him, 
who loved them and washed them from their sins 
in his own blood, and made them kings and priests 
unto God. They are forever to possess an inheri- 
tance incorruptible and undefiled and that fadeth 
not away. 

And it is clearly stated, as a warning'against the 
intrusion of the polluted, that there shall in no- 
wise enter into it anything that defileth, neither 
whatsoever worketh abomination or a lie. The 
pure in heart shall see God. Those who see his 
face will see it in righteousness and in incorrup- 
tion. 



UNTARNISHED DISCIPLESHIP 273 

Now they are in a world that is soiled by sin. 
They cannot touch it, with longing or with lust, 
without bearing away the foul marks of its grime, 
without knowing that the smutch of its pollution 
dishonors their calling. The temptations abound. 
The appeal is made to imperious passions, to the 
downward proclivities of a fallen, inherited nature ; 
sometimes to habits that were formed before the 
renewal by the Spirit, sometimes to desires that 
are good in themselves and wrong only in their 
abuse. It is most easy to have the fine gold of 
the Christian profession tarnished, and the silver 
speech of sainthood sullied. Many and many 
come up from the world's ways contaminated, 
the beauty and glory of their vocation gone. But 
there is another world that draws us. Eye cannot, 
indeed, see it; but we know that it shines on high, 
and that the path on which we should walk leads 
straight to its gates of pearl. The victorious 
saints, washed and made clean, wear their white 
robes within its walls, and the purest music of 
golden harps floats through its open doors. There 
Christ, the heavenly Lamb, leads his redeemed 
into pure fields and beside clear waters. No stain 
of sin is ever there. No defilement tarnishes the 
character of any who are privileged to enter. 
They go on, they grow and mature, in the excel- 
lence and brilliance of an unsullied life, of an 
immortal angelhood. Here then and now and 
is 



2 74 UNTARNISHED DISCIPLESHIP 

evermore, hold to your high calling. Let your 
conversation be in heaven. As you are journey- 
ing toward it, be filled with the spirit of it, and let 
your lives resemble the lives of those who are now 
what you hope soon to be. 



XVI 
THE DESIRE TO SEE JESUS 

" Sir, we would see Jesus." — John 12 :2i. 



Second Church, Germaxtowx, Pa. 



THE DESIRE TO SEE JESUS 



Certain Greeks were among the multitudes who 
from many lands had come up to Jerusalem to 
participate in the great festival of the Hebrew na- 
tion. From what place they had come we are not 
told. The Greeks were full of enterprise ; they 
were the merchants of the world. There is a tra- 
dition that they were a deputation sent by King 
Abgarus of Edessa to invite the Messiah to an 
asylum in his dominions. They were probably 
from some remote city, for if they had been dwell- 
ers in the land of Israel they would have had 
earlier opportunity to see the Lord. We do not 
know the object or purpose they entertained in 
seeking the interview. Nor have we any further 
account of them. But their desire to see Jesus at 
this time was a fact of great significance in its 
bearing on the kingdom of the Lord. He was 
near the crisis of his work. The hour, the deci- 
sive hour, for which all the ages had waited, for 
which the world had existed, was at hand. Every- 
thing dearest to man hung on the result of that 



278 THE DESIRE TO SEE JESUS 

fateful hour. Christ was greatly moved by it. His 
whole nature shrank from the crushing burden 
that he was to bear. On him were to be laid the 
iniquities of us all. He was to carry the sins of 
the world. In his own person he was to be 
wounded for the transgressions of mankind. 

Then, his people, those to whom he first came, 
were rejecting him, were despising his claims, were 
plotting for his death. At that time appeared on 
the scene these Greeks from some other land, who, 
perhaps, had never heard of Christ until within the 
few days preceding, who had witnessed, it may be, 
the triumphant entry of this remarkable person 
into Jerusalem, and heard the voices of loyal love 
and royal greeting which had welcomed him, now 
asking in courteous language, with modest yet firm 
request, that they might see Jesus. 

It was a request remarkable in itself, and re- 
markable as occurring at that juncture. It indi- 
cated coming history. It was a recompense for 
the guilty rejection of Christ by the Jews. It was 
the first fruits of the Gentile world. It was- the 
beginning of the fulfilment of prophecy. " Na- 
tions shall come to thy light, and kings to the 
brightness of thy rising. . . . they all gather them- 
selves together, they come to thee : thy sons shall 
come from far, . . . the wealth of the nations shall 
come unto thee." The glowing visions which had 
thrilled in the imagery of the Hebrew seers were 



THE DESIRE TO SEE JESUS 279 

coming to fulfilment. Already, before he was 
lifted up, he was beginning to. draw all men unto 
him. The other sheep which were not of the Jew- 
ish fold were beginning to hear his voice, and were 
coming to the one fold. He was not to give his 
life, as had been prophetically said, for that nation 
only, but that he might also gather together into 
one the children of God that are scattered abroad. 
These Greeks were the forerunners of the unnum- 
bered multitudes which, from peoples outside of 
the old economy, were to give Christ satisfaction 
for the work which he was to do. 

All along there had been recruits to the king- 
dom from the uncovenanted peoples ; men who in 
the midst of surrounding darkness groped their 
way to the true light. For " There was the true 
light, even the light which lighteth every man, com- 
ing into the world ; " every man, wherever he may 
live, on lonely islands of the mid-sea, in the dense 
forests of the Dark Continent, in the slums of en- 
lightened cities, all these have light by which they 
might walk in the sonship of God if they did not 
love darkness rather than light. " For the invisible 
things of him since the creation of the world are 
clearly seen, being perceived through the things 
that are made, even his everlasting power and 
divinity; that they may be without excuse." Men, 
everywhere, are without excuse for their sins, for 
not loving God. And they know it. Other men 



280 THE DESIRE TO SEE JESUS 

may try to excuse them, but their own consciences 
accuse them. 

We have no record of many who probably have 
followed the light which they had ; but the names 
of a few suggest many more, and from time to 
time we hear of others, enough to imply that out 
of the unevangelized world Christ may gain tro- 
phies even from peoples whose general character- 
istics are low and depraved. We have the account 
of Melchisedek and Job and Jethro and Ruth and 
Hiram and the Queen of Sheba and Naaman ; of 
three centurions of the Roman army, the centurion 
of Capernaum, the centurion at the cross, the Cen- 
turion Cornelius ; ofLydia; of the Ethiopian eunuch ; 
of Zacchaeus. Of one of these our Lord said, " I 
have not found so great faith, no,. not in Israel." 
And then we have that remarkable statement: 
" And I say unto you, that many shall come from 
the east and the west, and shall sit down with 
Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom of 
heaven : but the sons of the kingdom shall be cast 
forth into the outer darkness." And so it may .still 
be true that from heathen lands some shall follow 
the dim light they have and be conducted by it to 
heaven, while those who have the privileges of the 
gospel land shall reject their bright light and be 
cast into outer darkness. 

As the wise men came from the east to the 
cradle of the Saviour, so these Greeks came from 



THE DESIRE TO SEE JESUS 28 1 

the west to his cross. They were the beginnings 
of the fulfilment of prophecy, that unto him shall 
the obedience of the peoples be, and that the desir- 
able things of all nations shall come unto him. 
Christ saw in it the renewal, yes, the sign of the 
fulfilment of the prophecy of his kingdom, which 
was to be a world kingdom and to include all 
nations and tongues and peoples. 

Some things of importance are brought to mind 
by this occurrence. These Greeks che7'ished the 
convictions which had been stirred in them respect- 
ing Christ. Possibly they had heard rumors of 
him in their own land. The fact that a wonderful 
worker had appeared in Israel had gone forth 
among the nations. Rumor flies on unseen wings. 
It goes as if on the rays of morning light. It per- 
meates peoples widely scattered. You hear of it in 
unexpected places. It generally enlarges as it 
goes. St. Luke tells us that " this report went forth 
concerning him in the whole of Judaea, and all the 
region round about." No doubt it spread into other 
and remoter regions. Merchants carried it. Sol- 
diers and sailors, escort of caravans, travelers, car- 
ried it. Men who met on other business spoke of 
it to one another, as we speak of the inauguration 
of a president, or any other great event that is in 
popular thought. Perhaps, as we have intimated, 
they saw the demonstration the day before, when 
Christ came into the city from the Mount of Olives, 



282 THE DESIRE TO SEE JESUS 

with a great escort, and with hosannas and rejoic- 
ings of the people of all ages, who saluted him as 
the King of Israel. They may have been among 
those who asked, Who is this? and heard the reply, 
This is the prophet, Jesus, from Nazareth of Gali- 
lee. At all events, they had convictions that they 
ought to see him and to hear him. These con- 
victions they cherished. 

This is where many men are weak. They allow 
convictions that they have to be lost. They are 
impressed by what they hear of the Saviour, of 
his work for others, of his cure of blind men, of 
sick men, of his raising to life of dead men. They 
hear the testimony of converted men. They see 
the new lives of neighbors and friends who have 
seen Jesus and who are walking with him. They 
learn from the Scriptures, and from the preaching, 
of the sacrifice of Christ for them, of the way of 
salvation and acceptance by repentance and faith 
and obedience. Events are all the time occurring 
in the community, in their own circle, possibly in 
their own family, which excite them with the warn- 
ing they give, and speak forth, as if it were a per- 
sonal word, Prepare for what must come to you ! 
prepare to meet thy God ! Roused by all this, 
quickened to a sense of duty, they should cherish 
their convictions, deepen the lessons and impres- 
sions they have received. But instead of that, they 
pay little attention to them : they turn to other 



THE DESIRE TO SEE JESUS 283 

affairs : they occupy themselves with things which 
inevitably dissipate seriousness. If they were to 
cherish the impressions which they receive from 
truth, from providence, from the Holy Spirit, they 
might enter on a new life. Such cherished impres- 
sions would lead on to still deeper ones. They 
would be God's agency for salvation. They would 
grow into the irrepressible longing to see Jesus and 
to learn of him and to become his followers. This 
is the way that divine life comes to men dead in 
trespasses and sins. They must do something. 
They are not to be passive. They are not to say, 
with folly, that they are waiting God's time, that if 
they are to be saved they shall be saved, that some 
other season will be more convenient. That is the 
way to destroy all good feelings, all desires for 
God, all hope of conversion. Men have many 
good opportunities to be saved ; they do not im- 
prove them. They throw them away. Instead of 
saying, This is God's leading, and I must improve 
and use it and make the most of it, they banish the 
sentiment, and rush into business or study or frivol- 
ity. And so many occasions of conversion pass, 
and many souls lose the prize which is offered 
them, which is placed within their reach, which 
might easily have been theirs forever. 

Those certain Greeks used the means which 
were necessary. They saw Philip, who had a 
Greek name, and they applied to him. They asked 



284 THE DESIRE TO SEE JESUS 

in a winning and respectful way, in the courteous 
manner of the Greeks, who were the French of the 
ancient world, for an introduction to this great 
Rabbi. " Sir, we would see Jesus," they said. 
Philip, pleased with their manner and their desire, 
immediately told Andrew, and Andrew and Philip 
at once sought the Master and told him, and the 
Master undoubtedly promptly received them, and 
made his address bear upon their case, for their 
help and conversion. They sought to see Jesus 
through the disciples. They consulted those who 
knew him. They did not go to his enemies for 
counsel. They took advice of his friends. They 
did not stand aloof and say, ''Perhaps he will pass 
this way and give us an opportunity to speak to 
him." They did not say, "We have nothing to do 
about it. It is not our concern." They did not 
treat the matter with indifference, with neglect, 
with aversion ; but they took hold of it for them- 
selves; they came to Philip and asked him, show- 
ing that they were in earnest, and that they wanted 
to make the acquaintance of Christ. This is where 
too many fail. They go to philosophizing about 
the subject, or they try to evade responsibility, or 
they shirk their own duty. They do not use the 
means they have, which God puts into their hands. 
They do not hold themselves to the personal task 
of doing what is necessary to be done. 

Everywhere else they dote on their free agency ; 



THE DESIRE TO SEE JESUS 285 

only here they would disown it. It is God's work, 
they say. Yes, it is God's work, exactly as the 
harvest is God's work. But the farmer plows and 
enriches and cultivates the ground, and then the 
harvest ripens and he gathers it. It is God's 
harvest. But the man used the means to get it. 
Conversion is God's harvest. As Christ looked on 
the unconverted multitudes he said, "The harvest 
is white !" The souls were there that needed 

saving. If you would be converted you must do 
as the farmer does to get his harvest. You must 
search the Scriptures. They teach of Christ, and 
if you follow their instructions you will be saved. 
You must seek Christians, the ministers of Christ, 
the friends of Christ. It is their business and 
their joy to help you. You must pray. You must 
go to Christ. You must do all that you can do. 
You must feel that nothing is done till all is done. 
You must seek until you find. You must knock 
until the door of salvation is opened. You must 
ask until the gracious and full and blessed answer 
comes from God, 

One man uses the means 4 and he is saved. An- 
other man refuses to use them, and he is lost. 
There is nothing strange about it. One man 
uses the means for harvest; his garners are full. 
Another man refuses to use them ; he starves. 
Here is no mystery. Carry into this thing, my 
friends, the sense that you use in inferior things ; 



286 THE DESIRE TO SEE JESUS 

act as you act about your worldly occupations, 
and you will have similar results. There never 
was yet a man who fairly and fully used the 
means for his own conversion who was not con- 
verted! The responsibility lies on the man. God 
offers all the help that any soul needs and all, too, 
that God wisely can give. He has never said to 
any child of Adam, Seek you me in vain ! That is 
not God. For he would have all men to be saved. 
And he has provided the sufficient means and 
made the sufficient promises and now waits for 
sinners to use them. 

The Greeks availed themselves of what was 
then at hand. They put the right meaning into 
the little word now. They did not make it mean 
any time, nor some time. They did not say, We 
will send home and get a letter of introduction to 
him, written in Greek. They saw Philip, and 
they applied to him, right then and there. Men 
say, I am not prepared yet. I am not good 
enough. I will wait for the evangelist. I will 
wait for the revival. I am too young ! I do n't 
understand some things. I will study up. I will 
consult books and doctors. You want to avail 
yourself of what is now at hand. You can't 
afford to take any risk. You know nothing about 
to-morrow. This night thy soul may be required 
of thee. The next storm may burst on your 
dwelling. You need the Rock. 



THE DESIRE TO SEE JESUS . 28/ 

The Greeks might have said, When we come 
up to the next feast, we will see Jesus. Ah ! be- 
fore that the Christ was betrayed and crucified ; 
Gethsemane was on the next day but one, and Cal- 
vary was the day after that, and all was over ! 
Before the time that you are thinking of, your 
death may come, your opportunity be gone, your 
fate be determined. 

The Greeks learned that it was not enough to 
see Christ ; they must serve him. The Christian 
life consists in obedience. Repentance respects 
what is past; faith respects the present; obedi- 
ence is for all the future. And obedience is the 
proof of repentance and faith and love. It dem- 
onstrates friendship. It is the test of loyalty. 

The Greeks, by their coming, brought great 
comfort to Christ. He said, Now is my soul 
troubled. It was the hour of darkness. He was 
anticipating the dreadful experiences that were at 
hand. Then, on that sense of woe, came before 
him these strangers, representatives of the great 
Gentile world, the vast nations outside of Judaism, 
who were to be redeemed by what he should suf- 
fer. He saw of the travail of his soul, and was 
satisfied. For this cause came I unto this hour, 
he said. So he was comforted and strengthened. 
The glorious result filled his vision. It overpassed 
the means by which it was to be achieved. I, if 
I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men 



288 THE DESIRE TO SEE JESUS 

unto myself, he said, signifying by what manner of 
death he should die. I came to save the world, 
he said. The Greeks lightened the load, because 
it fills the Redeemer with joy to know that his 
death will not be in vain. Would you give joy 
and comfort to Christ? When his angels in 
heaven rejoice over one sinner who repenteth, he 
rejoices with them. 

Those Greeks voiced the want of the world. 
The universal longing, if it could come to expres- 
sion, would be, We would see Jesus! He only 
can satisfy human souls. He only can meet the 
deepest need of every one of you. Those inquir- 
ing Greeks had not the Jewish advantages ; but 
they went into the kingdom before the Pharisees. 
While the favored Jews were rejecting him, the 
earnest Greeks were seeking him. So, to-day, the 
heathen are before you. With all your light you 
are left ; in all their darkness they are finding the 
true Light. There are more conversions among 
our missionary churches than in the churches at 
home. Islanders, of the sea, natives of India and 
Japan, are entering into the kingdom of heaven 
before you. 

But if you would not now see Jesus, let it be 
remembered that you will one day see him. "Be- 
hold, he cometh with the clouds ;• and every eye 
shall see him, and they which pierced him." They 
who pierced him on the cross, they who wounded 



THE DESIRE TO SEE JESUS 289 

him afresh by rejecting his love, all shall see him. 
Now, you might seek and see him to your advan- 
tage. Then, you will only see him, if you remain 
his enemies, to your confusion and anguish. 

With words full of pathos and tenderness, even 
as he spoke to the Greeks in his last public dis- 
course, would he now speak to you, giving you' 
divine welcome to his love and service. 

A few months ago, we, in New England, were 
thrilled by the proud welcome which you in Phila- 
delphia gave to the brave captain of the steamship 
Missouri when that ship moved up your river to 
her pier. Off from the sinking Danmark, and 
out from the risks of the deep sea, he brought the 
imperiled men to your fair and hospitable city. 
You honored yourselves when you honored him, 
and the echoes of your cheers were in all the air 
of our great land. My friends in this church, it 
falls to your lot and privilege to be the rescuers of 
imperiled souls, who, whether they speak it aloud 
or not, would see Jesus. And be sure of this, that 
the city of God will greet you with celestial ova- 
tion, if, as Philip and Andrew conducted the in- 
quiring Greeks to Christ, you lead these, your 
friends and neighbors, to see the love of the Mas- 
ter and to go with you over the dangerous sea, 
on which we sail to the haven of eternal peace ! 
19 



XVII 
LIGHT AT EVENING 



; * It shall come to pass, that at evening time there shall be 
light.*' — Zechariah 14:7. 



Grand Avenue Church, New Haven. 



LIGHT AT EVENING 



Religion reverses the order of nature. Reli- 
gion is revolution. It overthrows the old dynamics. 
It changes the current of affairs. It introduces 
new principles, new motives, new hopes, new- 
powers even, inspires with new ambitions, reveals 
a new world, as the telescopic lenses open the 
pathway for sight into mystic spaces which had 
been as a formless blank and roll into view 
mighty orbs of brilliance and motion and density. 
It makes that light which had before been dark, 
so that this old prediction comes true, that at 
evening time it shall be light. 

Evening is the sober close of day. The shadows 
lie long on the earth and belt it with their bands 
of gloom. The beams of sunshine that had 
glowed on the landscape begin to flame up the 
sky in crimson and gold ; horizon reflects from 
horizon; and the firmament glows with the pomp 
of an evening glory that surpasses the radiance of 
noon. We have but to imagine this as prolonged, 
as in the northern latitudes, where golden light 
shimmers on cold floes and bergs of ice and the 






294 LIGHT AT EVENING 

desolation of wintry seas, to have a night that 
shall know no darkness, where the night shall be 
as the day, and the day shall be prolonged to the 
morning. It shall come to pass that at evening 
time it shall be light. 

First, there is the light of home that shines at 
each day's evening upon the reunited family. 
The day calls to toil, to separation, to diverse 
duties. The father goes forth to business and 
devotes himself to that, that he may provide for 
those who are as his own life to him. The 
mother busies herself with the thousand cares 
that must ever be repeated to make the home the 
place of rest and comfort and joy, that it may be a 
place of neatness and sweetness and attractiveness, 
that it may be a still harbor after the winds and 
storms and seas, and, it may be, wrecks, of the 
turbulent day. The children have been at school 
or at labor that they may contribute to the com- 
mon support, and, wearied, vexed with the colli- 
sions and corrosions of the busy day, they come 
within the magnetism of parental love and forget 
the heartburnings of the outside world in the 
peace and freedom of family life. The occur- 
rences of the day pass in review, and things that 
were hard and abusive and that wrenched the 
fibers of the finer feelings, dissolve in the alembic 
of love that contains perfect confidence, the pro- 
tection of fatherhood, the tenderness of mother- 



LIGHT AT EVEN IXC 295 

hood, the trust of childhood. Through the day 
they are all parted, but the evening brings them 
together and kindles a light that makes the hearth- 
stone bright and illumines the dwelling. In Phila- 
delphia the houses have dark shutters, and at 
evening they are closed.* When the gas is 
lighted, and the rooms blaze with brilliance, and 
the family is assembled, and the music begins, and 
there is the cheer of home and forgetfulness of the 
outside noise and competition, the houses look 
dark and forbidding to the passer-by ; but those 
who are within, singing the songs of the children 
of the Kingdom, reading in the lore of laureated 
writers, getting inspiration from pictures and 
books and the experiences of human life, realize 
that there is no place like that, and though the 
streets may be dark and the marts of business may 
be deserted, in the companionship and confidence 
of home is reached the fulfilment of the saying 
that at evening time it shall be light. 

In old English homes, where the wainscotings 
bear the tracery of a thousand years ago, where 
the family life is enriched by the traditions that 
have filtered through the memories of many genera- 
tions, I have found the same light, softened in the 
haze of antiquity, but making gladsome each 
evening after the toil of the day was done, in the 
reunion of those who had been parted and in the 
*In late years a custom honored in its breach. 



296 LIGHT AT EVENING 

quiet enjoyment of one another. And in German 
homes, on the banks of the Neckar and in the 
charming city of Munich, the same light has 
greeted me ; and so on, wherever our Chris- 
tianity lightens the home and the family, it must 
be that when the tasks of the fretted day are over 
the toilers come together to find that at evening 
time it shall be light. 

Secondly, there will be the light of redemption 
in the evening of the world's history. Redemp- 
tion is delayed. The morning of humanity has 
been long and sad and full of hard and bitter expe- 
rience. There came the strange Fall, breaking the 
promise of the race, breaking the crown that sat 
so regally on the head of man. Then came the 
experiment of apostasy ; with blood shed in crime, 
and blood shed in expiation ; with battle-fields and 
altar-groves ; with man's red right hand turned 
against his fellow man, and banners of brothers 
flaunting defiance and hostility ; with oppression 
and ignorance and scorn, with repentance and 
alleviation and missions of charity: a mingled, 
blurred record, pages of whiteness alternating 
with pages soiled and black : a gloomy morning, 
as when sunrise is back of heavy clouds that will 
not lift from the horizon, and storm-sheets sweep 
through the murky atmosphere, and the light of 
day is almost blotted out. Six thousand years 
this morning has numbered. And yet the signs 



LIGHT AT EVENING 297 

of noon are scant and slow. It will be a long day 
for the race to live out It will cost many sacri- 
fices before heathendom will be all reclaimed. 
There must be costly offerings to save this self- 
destroyed race. You think that there is light here 
and now. Yes, light ! but the shadows that crowd 
it ! Crimes, prisons, executions ; broken hearts 
of mothers and sisters ; pitiful weakness of men 
who misuse all their powers ; tendencies backward 
to barbarism ; drunkenness, chief crime and leader 
of crimes ; this nation of ours, a nation of light, 
you say, spending six millions annually for Chris- 
tian missions, but spending seven hundred millions 
for intoxicating drinks. Do you look for noon 
yet? Noon is light. The sun pours its floods 
then from the zenith. Not yet can it be noon. 
We might faint but for the promise, that God is 
light, and in him is no darkness at all. He will 
make his light to shine, and all the world will be 
flooded and warmed and kindled by it. 

But it will come later on. It will come at even- 
ing. There must be slow, great changes. Great 
histories must be written first. Great expenditures 
must be made. Great, good lives of God's chil- 
dren must be offered. But by and by, in the 
Lord's own time, the redemption will come, the 
nations will be saved. Then, in the full radiance 
of Christ's completed work, it shall be seen that at 
evening time it shall be light. 



298 LIGHT AT EVENING 

Thirdly, there will be the light of divine conso- 
lation in the midst of human discouragement. It 
is a hard task to work up the human elements of 
the divine kingdom. You are met by old follies, 
hardened habits, bitter prejudices, and, what is 
worse than all, the cool indifference that has nei- 
ther reason nor purpose back of it. These are 
the " chariots of iron " that bar all progress and 
prevent all victory. They stand in solid and 
threatening array across the path of the kingdom, 
and keep back those who would enter in. You 
present the gospel plainly, you gain the approval 
of the conscience and carry the judgment, and yet 
you find the same obstinacy of will, the same per- 
version of conduct, the same continuance in the 
old way, the same refusal of obedience, the same 
aloofness from Christ. The influence which might 
be given to the righteous cause, which would 
turn the scales in favor of the weightiest matter, 
which would give momentum and power to the 
truth, is refused, contrary to a wise prudence 
and the best interests of society. You can get no 
right answer from those who most need to give it. 
You can get no committal for Christ from those 
who control most precious interests which should 
be secured for him. Worse : you find Christians, 
at least professed Christians, whom you have 
worked for, in whose evident progress you have 
taken delight, on whom you have leaned for help 



LIGHT AT EVENING 299 

and comfort, swinging away from' duty, as ships 
swing from moorings in the stress of storm, turn- 
ing their back on privileges and ordinances, ex- 
hibiting a disposition which is a dishonor to the 
Christian profession, and hindering the work 
which needs their consecration and consistency. 
In all this are the elements of profound discourage- 
ment. You would naturally despair of the right- 
eous cause. You would conclude that there is no 
use of further effort, it is certain that all endeavor 
will be balked. But out of the gloom comes the 
cheer of divine consolation. You see the foot- 
marks of One who was despised and rejected of 
men, who had no beauty that the race desired, 
who was buffeted and crucified, and who bought 
the world only with blood. And so in the pity of 
Christ, in the sorrowful forbearance of the Son of 
God, you get the lessons of serenest consolation, 
and in the evening of your discouragement there 
shall be light. 

Fourthly, there will be light for the sinful soul 
in the darkness of its conviction. It is a depress- 
ing revelation that comes before an awakened sin- 
ner. In his blindness and stupor he was accus- 
tomed to think that all was well ; that he was not 
very far out of the way ; that he had not done any- 
thing very wrong; that his accountability ^vas a 
slight matter, and that God would not find much 
in him to condemn. But the awakening changes 



300 LIGHT AT EVENING 

all this. It takes away all self-justification. It 
sweeps off all personal reliances. It discloses a 
situation of unexpected peril. A flash of light- 
ning at sea has flamed on the side of an iceberg, 
and crew and passengers have had disclosed to 
them the danger that their ship would be instantly 
crushed. A lamp was brought to a party that 
had groped in a dark cave, and they found that 
they had paused on the brink of a yawning chasm, 
over which another step would have precipitated 
them. The lightning and the lamp created no 
danger; they only revealed that which existed. 
The conviction of sin creates no danger to the 
soul ; it only makes evident that which before ex- 
isted. But it is vastly important both to know and 
to realize the facts. For then the way of escape will 
be sought. And when that is sought CHRIST, in 
the fullness of his mediation and in the generosity 
of his offers, will be apprehended ; so that in the 
solemn sorrow of the soul, in the twilight of its 
self-reproach and of its wonder if there can be 
escape, He will be revealed a full Deliverer, so 
that at evening time it shall be light. 

Fifthly, there will be the light of heaven to the 
dying saint as he approaches that world. He has 
come to the sober evening of life, but it is made 
radiant by the light of that glory to which he 
draws near. Bunyan gives his pilgrims, as they 
approach the end of their journey, great delight in 



LIGHT AT EVENING 301 

the country of Beulah. There, as one has said, 
" We seem to stand in a flood of light poured on 
us from the open gates of Paradise. It falls on 
every leaf and shrub by the wayside ; it is re- 
flected from the crystal streams, that between 
grassy banks wind amidst groves of fruit trees into 
vineyards and flower-gardens. These fields of 
Beulah are just below the gate of heaven ; and 
with the light of heaven there come floating down 
the melodies, of heaven, so that here there is almost 
an open revelation of the things which God hath 
prepared for them that love him." They heard 
voices, loud voices, from out of the City. They 
met the shining ones who walked forth into this 
borderland of Paradise. They had their most per- 
fect view of the glory of the City, which was so 
great that, in his utter longing for it, Christian fell 
sick, sick of desire for that which was so near and 
beautiful. The light of it was all around him, so 
glorious that he could not, with open face, be- 
hold it. You remember the dying testimony of 
one of our own eminent ministers: "The Celes- 
tial City is full in my view. Its glories have been 
upon me, its breezes fan me, its odors are watted 
to me, its sounds strike upon my ears, and its 
spirit is breathed into my heart. Nothing sepa- 
rates me from it but the River of Death, which 
now appears but as an insignificant rill, that may 
be crossed at a single step, whenever God shall 



302 LIGHT AT EVENING 

give permission. The Sun of Righteousness has 
been gradually drawing nearer and nearer, appear- 
ing larger and brighter . . . and now he fills the 
whole hemisphere, pouring forth a flood of glory, 
in which I seem to float like an insect in the 
beams of the sun." 

Such is the light of evening to the dying saint. 
We are seeing it in those who pass from us, and 
we shall see it as others, dear to us, come into 
the luminous twilight. The bells of that City of 
God will ring in many chambers among us. The 
voices of the heavenly host will sound on dying 
ears, as voices of great gladness. The trumpet- 
ers will be heard, saluting with ten thousand wel- 
comes of that world, with shouting and sound of 
trumpet, those who are made ready to enter. 
There will meet them those who have harps and 
crowns to give unto them. And the bells of the 
city will ring again for joy, as they enter into 
the joy of their Lord. May we be of the num- 
ber of such ! May we walk in newness of life 
through the days of our trial, so that to us at 
evening time it shall be light. 

So, too, at last, there shall be light in the world's 
final evening. To the old Crusaders there was 
one thing that made up for the long march and 
the sharp privations and the dust and smoke of 
roads and battle. It was the blessed city of God, 
the city where the Lord had lived and died. 



LIGHT AT EVENING 303 

Fronfr lands of the olive and the vine, from cities 
that were gaining splendor with the advancing 
civilization, at the call of God and the sign of 
the cross, they had formed themselves into vast 
armies, and by land and sea, in the face of all 
obstacles, with almost superhuman courage and 
strength, the}* had held on, until wayworn and 
war-scarred, they had come in sight of its re- 
nowned walls and towers, when tears of joy 
flowed down their bronzed faces, and there went 
up the shouts of armies, like the voice of thun- 
der, "Jerusalem! Jerusalem!" So the ransomed 
of the Lord, from all these lands of earth, from 
all these temptations and pollutions of the world, 
shall return and come to Zion with songs and ever- 
lasting joy and glory on their heads ; they shall 
obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing 
shall flee away. This world's long and weary day 
shall end in brilliant and peaceful millennium ! 



XVIII 



THIS MINISTRY 



" I hold not my life of any account, as dear unto myself, 
so that I may accomplish my course, and the ministry which 
I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify the gospel of the 
grace of God." — Acts 20 : 24. 



On Concluding an Active Pastorate of Thirtv Years. 
20 



THIS MINISTRY 



The ministry of the gospel is a bestowment 
from the Lord Jesus. Ministers are ambassadors 
accredited of Christ. Before any human call has 
come to them, they have been summoned into 
the service by a Divine Voice. Before the imposi- 
tion of an\- human hand upon them, they have 
had ordination by a Divine Hand. 

St. Paul wrote, " I thank him that enabled me. 
even Christ Jesus our Lord, for that he counted, 
me faithful, appointing me to his service." 

So the call to preach the gospel and the 
appointment thereto must be from the Lord him- 
self. They who preach the gospel have nothing 
to glory of; for necessity is laid upon them. 

It is, therefore, a satisfaction to them when they 
can accomplish their course and finish the minis- 
try which they have received from the Lord Jesus, 
to testify the gospel of the grace of God; and for 
this the}- would not hold their life of any account, 
as dear unto themselves, but rather would hold it 



308 THIS MINISTRY 

in willing service and sacrifice unto the end, for 
Him whose they are and whom they serve. 

The "dead line" in this ministry is the line of 
death. It is said that some young ministers are 
concerned lest the dead line will be reached when 
they shall be forty years of age, lest beyond that 
the churches will not want their services ; and 
that possibly some other vocation should be 
sought by them, as that of the physician, whose 
ripe experience secured by many years of practice, 
makes his counsel invaluable and authoritative ; 
as that of the lawyer, whose many years of study 
and pleading make him the authority of the bar, 
and the aid of the bench. 

But these alarmed incipient licentiates need a 
revision of their ideas of the ministry. Woe is 
unto them if they preach the gospel in fear of a 
dead line, rather than in the fear of the Master; 
in terror of being laid aside, rather than in joy 
that the privilege is granted to them of entering 
upon a course whose conclusion is determined by 
another Hand ! 

Practice and experience are as valuable in a 
clergyman as in a physician or an advocate. Care 
of souls is more critical than care of bodies. The 
securing of divine righteousness is on a higher 
plane than the securing of human rights. 

The young preacher need not discourage him- 
self with somber images of the dead line ; but he 



THIS MINISTRY 309 

may encourage himself with the thought of the 
living issues, the immortal interests, which are 
committed to his charge. 

It is possible that the exactions upon the pulpit 
in our day are rigid and peremptory; but the ex- 
actions upon the pulpit are greater in that which 
is unexpressed than in that which is orally de- 
manded. No exactions can overstate the demand 
for the faithful preaching of the gospel, for the 
watch for souls, for the satisfaction of Christ. In 
these things lies the heaviest responsibility of the 
minister. 

An age of worldliness and materialism calls for 
a letting down of obligation, for a reduction of the 
meanings of Scripture truth, for the preaching of 
smooth things, for sensationalism in the pulpit- 
And there are men who court a temporary popu- 
larity by feebly yielding to this call, adjourning 
the eternal verities which overhang and encom- 
pass our integral life. But the real preacher de- 
tects the temptation of the time, and holds fast to 
the ministry of reconciliation. He has a great 
work in hand for his Lord, and he cannot come 
down to listen even to the clamor of a degenerate 
religionism. Life is at stake ! Eternity is draw- 
ing near! Unchangeable retribution awaits his 
hearers ! 

MEN WANT TRUTH. They do not want specu- 
lation, nor fancy, nor the vanity of human judg- 






310 THIS MINISTRY 

merit. What saith the Lord? is' the deep cry out 
of the human heart. We know that things are 
serious with us. We are not here for holiday. 
A laugh answers no great question. A supposi- 
tion has no quality of revelation. The discussion 
of worldly relations cannot settle future destiny. 

What shall I do to be saved? is the overmas- 
tering inquiry that crowds out all others. It is 
the preacher's task to answer that to each soul ; to 
the thoughtful and to the careless as well. For, 
sooner or later, each one becomes an inquirer. 
Some may not become so till it is late, perhaps 
too late. But all want the answer ; they want to 
be familiar with it, so familiar that they can retain 
it, that they can recall it in storm, in shipwreck, 
at midnight, in the wild whirl of flood, in the roar 
of battle, in the crash of doom, wherever men 
die. 

The gospel, the glad word, the blessed evangel, 
must be fastened in the mind of every hearer, 
must be wrought in illuminated words upon the 
memory, so that if the sinner be alone in his su- 
preme moment, with no mother by him, no friend 
to speak to him, no minister to pray for him, he 
shall yet remember the divine message, and know 
that the forgiving Christ is ready to respond to 
his faith ! 

This truth holds satisfaction in it. It has been 
proved. That Christ died to save sinners has met 



THIS MINISTRY 3 I I 

the need of men everywhere. Salvation by the 
blood of the Redeemer sounds on imperiled souls 
with a gospel tone. Lower terms, other teach- 
ings, weak surmises, only tantalize those who 
hunger and thirst for the Bread of Life and the 
Water of Life, who want certainly to know how 
they can be saved now. They will not thank you, 
in the decisive crises of life, for your invented 
doctrine, for your vain cry of peace, for your 
untempered mortar. They want something to build 
on that will stand : something firmer than your un- 
sifted sand ; and nothing less than the real Word 
of God, the tried and sound Word, will avail. 
Show us the way of life and lead us therein ! is 
the demand on the preacher of this day, and of all 
days. Give us the very truth that our poor, sinful 
souls are yearning for ; and give it simply and 
earnestly, and as though you meant what you are 
saying. Give us doctrine that will stand the test 
of the judgment day: such that you can look into 
our faces at the tribunal of God ! 

But there be teachers who say, The times have 
changed : truth is evolvent : we are learning some 
things that the fathers did not know : theology is 
a progressive science and new meanings arc found 
for the old doctrines. 

Undoubtedly new light shines out of the Word. 
It shines to make the old truths clearer, and not to 
obscure them or blot them out. Sin is the same 



312 THIS MINISTRY 

fact now that it always has been. Salvation by 
the redemption of Christ is as certain a doctrine 
to me as it was to St. Paul. Justification by faith 
in Christ is as clearly a truth for a sinner to-day 
as it was for Luther when it flashed into his mind, 
as, on his knees, he was wearily climbing Peter's 
staircase at Rome. We need to know, and to 
have it impressed upon us, as much as men ever 
needed it, that we are finally to be judged by the 
deeds done here in the body and that our eternal 
happiness or our eternal misery are to have deci- 
sion now. We should recognize the central fact 
that Christ was the true Light which lighteth 
every man coming into the world : and that those 
who are not saved by him in the existent proba- 
tion are without excuse. 

Now, whatever scientific research may unfold, 
or philosophic reasoning may conclude, these old 
truths cannot be changed. They are fundamen- 
tal. They are immutable. They are granitic : and 
they give substance and strength and enduring- 
ness and reliability to true theology. 

Times may change and men may change with 
them : other forms of truth may have revision : 
but these substantive doctrines abide the same 
from age to age. Like the fixed stars, they shine 
with the same light and from the same heaven 
through the enduring centuries. 

The minister is a teacher of divine truth. He 



THIS MINISTRY 313 

is a man of One Book. He speaks under in- 
spired orders. " Preach unto it the preaching that 
I bid thee" is his charge. He speaks to the in- 
tellect of men ; to their sober reason and their un- 
perverted conscience. He has the best part of 
every man with him. He speaks to the sensibili- 
ties ; to human hopes and fears, to the longing of 
souls that have telescopic vision and look into the 
distances of the eternal years. He speaks to the 
will ; and presents motives of force and of supreme 
importance to sway it to right choice. He speaks 
of themes that are sacred, that live in the holy 
memories of childhood, that reverberate with the 
murmur of mother voices, that have been wrought 
into the structure of his whole lifetime, and that 
wear the crown of a rightful supremacy. 

The destructive criticism of our day is doing 
dangerous work. It is doing work which will 
need to be undone. It is undermining faith in 
the most important truths. Professedly elimina- 
ting error, it is really sowing the seeds of vaster 
error. It is fostering unfaith in place of the most 
sacred and vital of all beliefs. Its effect on the 
popular mind is unsettling and ruinous. It creates 
a pervasive atmosphere of doubt. It antagonizes 
preaching and teaching and all efforts for success 
and power in the saving of souls. It displaces the 
Bible from the thought and reverence and con- 
trolling authority of men. They are as naviga- 



3 H THIS MINISTRY 

tors at sea without reckoning or compass or 
chart. 

Just here we must be on guard. Just here the 
pulpit must reassert itself. Just at this point we 
must raise again the old war-cry of the Reforma- 
tion : The Bible ! The Bible alone ! Now for the 
truth and for the imperiled cause, we must de- 
mand INVIOLABLENESS FOR THE WORD OF GOD. 
By that we stand or fall. By that, in the name 
of Him who gave it, we set up our unretreating 
banners. 

The Spirit is in the Word. He effectually uses 
the Word. These words are words which the 
Spirit teacheth. St. Paul thanked God that the 
Thessalonian Christians accepted " the word of 
the message, even the word of God, . . . not as 
the word of men, but, as it is in truth, the word 
of God, which also worketh in you that believe." 
He wrote to the Romans that belief cometh of 
hearing, and hearing by the Word of Christ. He 
charged the Ephesians, " take . . . the sword of 
the Spirit, which is the word of God." He put 
at the forefront of his letter to the Hebrews, " God, 
having of old time spoken unto the fathers in the 
prophets by divers portions and in divers man- 
ners." He wrote to his beloved child Timothy, 
" Thou hast known the sacred writings which are 
able to make thee wise unto salvation through 
faith, which is in Christ Jesus." We plant our- 



THIS .MINISTRY 3 I 5 

selves, at this crisis, on the reiterated testimony 
of our Lord Himself: "Ye search the scriptures, 
and these are they which bear witness of me: 
. . . and upon his later word, " The scripture 
cannot be broken:" and upon his tender prayer, 
"Sanctify them in the truth: thy word is truth." 

Here we stand. No adverse criticism can move 
us. With our fathers we rest on the imperishable 
Word. With the saints of all ages we exalt the 
inspired Word of the Lord. We know what it has 
done for us. We know what a power of grace 
and salvation, of enlightenment, of liberty, of edu- 
cation, it has been in all our history. We owe 
our freedom, our culture, our rank among nations, 
to the Bible. It was a significant act when the 
queen of England, in reply to the question of a 
barbaric prince, what it is that has made her em- 
pire great, put into his hands a copy of the Holy 
Scriptures. Its fruits maintain the Word. If 
there were no internal evidence of its divinity, the 
external evidence would be enough. We forswear 
our manhood, our civilization, our victorious prog- 
ress in the world, when we decline to give the 
Bible its sole place of authority. We reject salva- 
tion, our hopes of heaven, the whole work of our 
redeeming Christ, when we reject the revelation 
of Holy Scripture. 

The minister sets forth also the ethics of prac- 
tical every-day life, the rules of right action in 



3 I 6 THIS MINISTRY 

homes, in business, in politics, in all the affairs of 
the people. He teaches that human conduct 
should be squared by the Golden Rule. His in- 
fluence is an educational influence : it leads to 
right development; refining, upbuilding, broaden- 
ing the popular tastes and choices. You may 
trace the instruction of the pulpit through any 
community where it has been a factor for molding 
the life, in the morals, the schools and homes of 
the people. It urges to that which is higher: at 
last to that which is highest. 

We hear much of the sphere of the pulpit : its 
claims and power are set in contrast with other 
spheres. But after all is said, this remains: that 
the work of the pulpit is evermore with immutable 
verities of life and of eternity. It defines the re- 
sponsibilities of free agency : warns men against 
the temptations that beguile them into evil : de- 
clares the sinfulness of sin : holds up the standard 
of duty, God's moral law : makes the one way of 
redemption plain : draws men to noblest life and 
to heavenly aspirations. Surely this is sphere 
enough. St. Paul, with all his culture and power, 
thought it was enough for him to testify to men, 
at Athens, at Rome, in voluptuous Corinth or 
barbarian Melita, the gospel of the grace of God : 
not law, not morality, not speculation, not human 
conclusions, but the gospel of the grace of God ! 
In the preaching of that is power and wisdom 



THIS MINISTRY 3 I 7 

and success and the favor of God and the co- 
working of the Spirit, and so salvation and eternal 
glory ! 

While the pulpit has been called the "preacher's 
throne" and while his greatest effort should be 
put forth in what St. Paul called " preaching the 
kingdom," the minister has an important work to 
do as the pastor of his flock. Some ministers 
have made it a point to know all their people by 
name, even the youngest of the children. Cer- 
tainly the pastor who would exert the deepest 
influence would seek to know the spiritual condi- 
tion of every individual in his parish. This knowl- 
edge would be invaluable, not only as guiding his 
efforts for their personal salvation, but also as 
suggesting the themes and the substance of his 
public discourse. 

It is told of Robert Hall that in his parochial 
visits he liked to steal in earlier than he was ex- 
pected that he might for a time share in the gam- 
bols and gaieties of the children. The pastor's 
acquaintance should begin early with the children. 
If he remains long in one place, they will soon be 
the young people of his charge and then at the 
head of their own homes. So rapidly do the gen- 
erations pass across the stage ! 

The conditions of human life, the trials which 
come to all households, make a strong claim upon 
the sympathies of the affectionate pastor. He 



3 I 8 THIS MINISTRY 

enters into their experiences, rejoices in their joy, 
sorrows in their sadness, is glad to supplement 
their feebleness and fear by his courage and 
strength and faith. They naturally appeal to him 
for spiritual counsel, seek his guidance in the 
stress of storm and trouble, ask his benediction as 
they go out into untried paths and take upon 
their shoulders unusual burdens, listen to his voice 
when the sense of sin makes them feel the need 
of a Saviour, look to him for prayer in their behalf 
when the waves and billows of calamity and death 
pour over them. 

And it is the joy of the pastor that in Christ's 
stead he can be the minister of help and consola- 
tion and hope to those for whom he watches as 
the shepherd for the flock. 

The ultimate success of the minister's labors is 
closely allied to his pastoral work. Impressions 
which are produced by preaching are transient 
unless they can be followed by personal influence. 
That which is spoken in the pulpit is spoken to 
the great congregation : but the word that is said 
when eye looks into eye and when the touch of 
the hand is felt, is the word that means the indi- 
vidual, as when Nathan said to David, " Thou art 
the man." The pastor must imitate the divine 
Shepherd who said, "I know mine own and mine 
own know me." All that interests them is of 
interest to him. He is concerned for their mate- 



THIS MINISTRY 319 

rial welfare, for their moral interests, for their 
spiritual good. 

The great events, the supreme crises of life, are 
constantly occurring somewhere, in some homes, 
in some souls of a large parish. The minister is 
needed then : and he goes with words of cheer 
and solace and life to his glad or sorrowing or 
fearful people. 

This parish has always expected, it has always 
needed, much pastoral work. Requiring, for the 
last sixteen years, of its minister but one preaching 
service on each Sabbath day, it has had more of 
private and personal work than is common, and 
the church has prospered with this arrangement. 
It is this personal work which has exacted 
strength and time, and which has also secured, by 
the divine blessing, precious results. Any church, 
certainly this church, cannot prosper without the 
house to house, hand to hand, soul to soul, labor 
of a diligent and loving pastor. At the same time, 
the period is now reached when the interests of 
the parish, when its self-protection as well, require 
a Sunday evening preaching service. 

The ministry which is to be finished here to- 
day has been a long one as pastorates are in these 
times. It has not been an an over-long one meas- 
ured by the standard of former days. 

Thirty years in this age of restlessness and 
change, when the demand for novelty and sensa- 



320 THIS MINISTRY 

tionalism is strong and perverse, is quite an 
extended period for one man to hold the attention 
and the affection of one parish. 

If, in speaking of this period, I shall transgress 
my own rule by bringing forward that which is 
personal and statistical to some extent, I shall be 
pardoned in view of the peculiarity of the occasion 
and your expressed desire. 

I lay down my office to-day, as, twenty-nine 
years ago in the same place and for the same rea- 
son, I laid it down, because I have not strength of 
voice for all the work which this large church re- 
quires. A weakness of the vocal organs, first in- 
duced by over-labor when a young man for this 
people, in a time of wide and powerful religious 
interest, when more than two hundred souls were 
led to Christ, and when I felt that the life would 
be long which answered life's great end, and that 
the saving of the souls of this flock would more 
than compensate for any disability which might 
come to the shepherd of it, has once before in- 
terrupted my work, as it is now interfering with it 
again. 

I have never been a candidate : and so do not know 
the peculiar pleasure of standing before a critical 
audience in that relation. It was in the middle of 
my senior year as a student of theology that I 
received the unanimous call of this church and 
society to become their pastor. Seven months 



THIS MINISTRY 32 1 

after that, on the first day of October, nearly forty- 
three years ago, I received ordination to the 
ministry here. For fourteen years I served this 
church ; then was absent for nearly thirteen years ; 
and now finish sixteen years of renewed service. 
Although quite a number of invitations have come 
to me, from six different states of the Union and 
from foreign fields to places of labor with what 
might be considered superior attractions, I have 
been content to dwell among mine own people 
and to labor with them year after year for the 
cause which has here been committed to us. 

It would be difficult to detach from the memo- 
ries of the generation and a half which now pass 
as in panorama before us all those things which 
were full of significance and interest at their 
occurrence. It will be enough to indicate a few 
salient features of the pastorate. 

It is gratefully recalled that these years of our 
life together have been a period of unbroken 
harmony. Whatever differences of sentiment and 
taste there may have been, they have subsided 
before the supreme purpose of loyalty to Christ 
and his Church. We have gone on as a Brother- 
hood under the control of our great Leader, and 
to-day we can remember only the things in which 
we have been agreed. We might challenge the 
finding of another such relation which in this 
respect has been more blessed. 



322 THIS MINISTRY 

These years hold a long record of kindnesses 
which began at their beginning and have contin- 
ued to their end ; out of which stand forth my 
release for two prolonged absences in Europe 
and another at the West and the joyous celebra- 
tion of my silver wedding anniversary. 

In them are hallowed seasons of deep religious 
interest, when the truth has taken strong hold of 
the people, and many have been won to Christ ; 
resulting, at the close of 1848 and the beginning of 
1849 m the addition of one hundred and twenty- 
four persons to the fellowship of the church ; in 
October, 1858, in the addition of twenty-six; in 
May and July, 1877, of sixty-six; in May, 1883, 
of thirty-four ; and of smaller numbers at many 
communion seasons. 

Many sad and tender occasions have gathered 
us in sympathy with those who have mourned 
for the loss of the fairest and best beloved ; chil- 
dren in their beauty ; friends in the opulence of 
their love, and when their presence and help were 
most desired. So, too, have we met in common 
joy, when marriage-bells were ringing, and when 
glad voices wakened responsive music in our 
hearts. 

Names spring to-day to our thought, if not to 
our lips, so many, of the beloved, " dear, near and 
true," who stood with us, sharers of our burdens, 
sharers, too, of the joy in accomplishment, ever 



THIS MINISTRY 323 

faithful, firm in the tests of friendship, cheering 
us by their unwavering confidence and courage ; 
some of them already privileged and crowned and 
awaiting us with Christ, for where he is there are 
they with him ; some still in the service, witness- 
ing for the Master to whom they have given 
their lives. 

This time of retrospection is also a time of 
anticipation. We would not forget, we cannot 
forget, those with whom we took sweet counsel 
and in whose company we walked to the house 
of God. We look on, also, to the day when we 
all, those who have gone before us, and we who 
have lingered a little longer at our tasks, shall be 
gathered in the place which Christ has prepared 
for us, when he whom we dearly love shall be 
our Shepherd, and shall guide us unto fountains of 
waters of life. We anticipate the greeting which 
awaits us from those who have been already hon- 
ored, and who have become used to the scenes 
and service which are for all the redeemed. 

Great changes, during the period at which we 
are hastily glancing, have occurred in every direc- 
tion, in all the relations of human society. All 
the clergy who were members of the council for 
my ordination, with two exceptions, are dead. 
There is no pastor remaining in the county who 
was a pastor then. There is but one minister 
beside myself in the whole state who was then 



324 THIS MINISTRY 

the minister of the church of which he is now the 
minister. Of the members of the church and 
society at that time very few remain with us. 
Then, there were in these Quinnipiack wards 
three churches ; now, there are eight churches ; 
two chapels, one built by a member of this church, 
are also occupied on the outskirts of the parish, 
making ten meeting-houses instead of three. This 
was the only Congregational church, now there 
are three. Then, there was hardly a dwelling- 
west of this spot; since that, from the banks of 
the Quinnipiack population has spread up the 
hillsides eastward, and over the plain westward. 
Then, there were two small schoolhouses ; now, 
the Woolsey district has its stately buildings and 
its splendid appointments for public school in- 
struction, with thirty-two trained teachers. 

The four hundred and forty-two funerals which 
I have attended, and the marriage of four hundred 
and sixty-six persons which I have solemnized 
indicate in part the mutations of the rolling years. 

Our location, in itself most beautiful, on .this 
commanding and tranquil site, properly, as that 
of the old First Church, in front of the ground 
whose silent dwellers make an ever-growing cen- 
sus, and looking out over the enlarging popula- 
tions of the living, is yet one which subjects us to 
necessary reverses. A suburban church feels the 
flow of life, backward and forward, into the heart 



THIS MINISTRY 325 

of the old city, and out into the freedom of the 
country. So we have dismissed a large number 
of members to the city churches west of us, and 
have parted with a large colony, numbering in the 
end between one hundred and two hundred, for 
the building of our sister church east of us. The 
new Ferry Street Church has also drawn upon our 
membership. Drafts are constantly made upon 
the mother-church of any community; younger 
churches feel the need of help and increase ; and 
we have borne the effects of their enlargement. 

During the last decade we have seen great 
inroads upon our strength by death. Two be- 
loved and honored office-bearers, men of might, 
with an unusual number of citizens of personal 
and financial weight, have been removed from us, 
whose loss has been heavily felt in all our Chris- 
tian activities. 

The entire roll of the church, from the beginning 
in 1830, has one thousand, three hundred and 
seventy-seven names. Of these, seventy-eight con- 
stituted the church at and near its organization. 
During the four pastorates other than mine, three 
hundred and ninety-nine petsons were received to 
membership, an average of one hundred to each 
pastorate, and a yearly average of sixteen. In the 
earlier period of fourteen years of my service, 
three hundred and four persons; in the latter 
period of sixteen years, five hundred and ninety- 



326 THIS MINISTRY 

one persons have been added to your fellowship ; 
in all, eight hundred and ninety-five communi- 
cants, five hundred and fifty-four of these on con- 
fession of faith, making an annual average addition 
of thirty members. The increase of the church 
during the thirty years we are now reviewing, as 
well as the yearly average of increase, has been 
about twice as much as during the twenty-nine 
years beside. 

During the six months of this year, 1889, twen- 
ty-four have been added to our membership, a 
considerably larger number than the average ; 
fourteen of them at the last observance of the 
Holy Communion, making the occasion one of 
most glad and tender interest. 

I have administered baptism to three hundred 
and seventy-three persons, an average of more 
than twelve each year. 

There is satisfaction, also, in our external prog- 
ress and improvements. It has been my delight 
to help you in that advance which has taken us 
out of what is now the Grand Avenue school- 
house, and which led early to the erection of a 
chapel which marked an era of new life; after 
seven years to the securing of this site, and the 
erection and furnishing of this commodious house ; 
in 1880 to the enlargement of this building, which 
has given us the spacious Sunday-school room, 
the chapel, and our social rooms; then to the 



THIS MINISTRY 327 

purchase of a new bell to take the place of a 
similar one which was broken, and to the enlarged 
compass and improvement of the organ ; and 
later to the renovation and refurnishing of the 
entire house of worship ; all of which has been 
accomplished during the years we arc now con- 
sidering. 

The church has now on its roll five hundred 
and three names: quite a number of them, not- 
withstanding our effort to have absentees take 
letters of dismission, being permanently away. 

The succession of orthodox pastors, men hold- 
ing the great essential doctrines of the Word of 
God and preaching them plainly and with power, 
by which this church has been favored from the 
first, has given the truth firm foothold in this com- 
munity, and has resulted in revivals of religion 
which have developed sound Christian char- 
acter. 

The power of the church here has been an up- 
lifting and saving power, which should be increas- 
ingly set forth. There is ability, unemployed or 
half employed, to secure still greater results in all 
our work: latent strength sufficient to move 
society from its foundations : professional and 
business capacity, broad intelligence and experi- 
ence, waiting for attention to the Master's call for 
service: pecuniary strength ample to secure a 
high order of talent in the services of public wor- 



328 THIS MINISTRY 

ship, in the offices of praise and the preaching of 
the Word. 

The minister, for the greatest efficiency of his 
ministry, needs a church not only fully equipped, 
but also fully employed. Dr. Parkhurst has lately 
said, "The preacher's church is his force, not his 
field." The whole church should be with him. 
Rev. John McNeill, who has lately come down 
from Scotland to London, has said to his London 
audience, "I am not going to spend my strength 
in preaching only on churchgoers." The uncon- 
verted who come to church are no more impor- 
tant than the unconverted who do not come. The 
force of the church should cover the wider field. 

Still the testifying of the gospel of the grace of 
God sounds on in its winning tones. The blessed 
Saviour does not despair of gaining the hearts that 
have been shut, oh, so long ! to his tender call. 
For you he has stood, looking in at your windows, 
knocking at your doors, saying, Open to me ! till 
his head is filled with dew and his locks with the 
drops of the night. And to-day he calls again. 
He would not have you lost. The hands that he 
reaches out to you are wounded hands, wounded 
for you ! Might it be that in this serious evening 
of years the voice that has spoken to you so often 
for him might even now awaken response and be 
answered back by the cry of faith ? 

Dr. Johnson is quoted as saying, " No one ever 



THIS MINISTRY 329 

did anything consciously for the last time without 
a feeling of sadness." Our best work is imper- 
fect work. As we look back upon it we see its 
defects and wonder whether if ue had been more 
faithful greater results might have been seen. So 
I wonder to-day whether anything I might have 
done or said would have made this a stronger 
church: would have made these who profess to 
follow Christ more like the Master: would have 
brought the impenitent to accept the salvation the 
gospel offers; and then a strain of sadness run. 
into the harmonies of the time. 

Still the joy remains that the service has been 
done, the honest attempt has been made, the bur- 
den of the Lord has been borne. The joy is not, 
as a friend has said to me, that the burden is now 
to be laid down, but that it has been borne: not 
that there is to be a riddance of the burden, but 
that into the life and being, into the character and 
the eternal life has gone the grandeur of having 
borne the burden. The burden is not a load to 
be cast off, it is not something that has crushed 
one, but something that has lifted one. and it is 
laid down as a means of ascent to something 
higher, as men lay down solid stepping-stones on 
which they rise into holy temples and structures 
of imperishable glory ! 

And now, after all these years, with their mani- 
fold experiences, after the joy of forming friend- 



330 THIS MINISTRY 

ships which have been begun here and which are 
to remain eternal, after service which has been 
done for the beloved Master and which has 
brought satisfaction to him in the souls that are 
saved, it is indeed a relief to find that our ways 
are not to diverge from this point to unite no 
more in this world, but that, through your consid- 
eration and kindness in offering' me the place and 
title of PASTOR EMERITUS, which I now accept in 
the genuine spirit of confidence with which it was 
cheerfully given, our fellowship is to be continued 
and so there is no necessity of parting nor of say- 
ing the sad word, Farewell. 

And now, my friends, I commend you to God, 
and to the word of his grace, which is able to build 
you up, and to give you the inheritance among 
all them that are sanctified. And the peace of 
God, which passeth all understanding, shall guard 
your hearts and your thoughts in Christ Jesus. 
The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with you. 
Amen. 



6 



WAY go 1»99. 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: April 2006 

PreservationTechnologies 

A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATION 

1 1 1 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township. PA 16066 
(724)779-2111 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




017 524 863 8 # 



[ 

i 

I 

I 
■ 





! | , i ' 


i., j 

^0< 


li 


;> j 




:- 


IB 



mmt 



iii 



lliil! 



